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SALMAGUJS^DI. 



RIVERSIDE EDITIOJJ. 




SUMMER MOUSiS. 



SALMAGUNDI ; 

OR, THE 

VVHIMWHAMS AND OPINIONS OF LAUNCELOT 

LANGSTAFF, ESQ., AND OTHERS. 



BY 

WILLIAM IRVING, JAMES KIRKE PAULDING, 

AND 

WASHINGTON IRVING. 



In hoc eat hoax, cum quiz et jokcsez, 
Et Bmokem, toastem, roaatem folksez, 

Fee, faw, fuiii. Ptalmanazar. 

With baked and boiled, and stewed and toasted, 
And fried and broiled, and smoked and roasted. 
We treat the town. 



PRINTED FROM THE ORIGINAL EDITION, WITH A PREFACB 
AND NOTES BY EVERT A. DUYCKINCK. 



PHILADELPHIA: 

J. B. LIPPINCOTT A CO. 

1872. 



?^^o 






Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the jear 1860, by 

THE EXECUTORS OP 

J. K. Paulding and WAsniNGTON Irving, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for 

the Southern District of New York. 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. 



I be present reprint of the following papers 
has grown out of the repeated demand, 
l l^o^O! of late years, for an edition of Salma- 
GUNDi, worthy to accompany tlie collected 
volumes of tlie writings of the distinguished authors- 
The book would probably have been included by 
Mr. Irvin*' in the revised edition of his works, had 
it been wholly his own. It was published some 
time aco, in the series of tlie writings oi" Ids friend 
and relative, the joint author of the essays, 'Mr. Paul- 
din«'-, and though it had been long out of print in that 
form, Mr. Ii'ving did not seem disposed to break the 
a-ssociation. He was accustomed, indeed, to speak 
of it as a Ught, trivial pubUcation, the sport of his 
boyish days ; and he certainly showed no eagerness 
iu revivin*T it ; but we cannot suppose him insensi- 
ble to the many excellences which the work undoubt- 
edly possesses — charms of manner and of thought 
springing from the Iresh joyous period of youth, and 
lending their grace to the brightest pages of his ma- 
tured labors. SALMAGUiyjDi is the literary parent, 
not only of tlie " Sketch Book " and the '* Alhambra," 
but of all the intermediate and subsequent produc- 
tions of Irving, even of some slight ornaments of 
the graver offspring of the " Columbus" and " Wash- 
ington." There is, lor instance, in one of the later 
numbers, a chapt>jr of " The Chi'onicles of the re- 



vi EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

nowned and Ancient City of Gotham," which an- 
ticipates the humor of Knickerbocker ; there are 
traits of tenderness and pathos suggestive of the 
plaintive sentiment of the " Sketch Book ; " and the 
kindly humors of the Cocklolt mansion are an 
American " Bracebridge Hall." 

The book in fact, is every way in place in company 
with the series of ]Mr. Irving's writings. It was not 
all of his composition, to be sure, nor did it receive 
that care of revision at his hands, bestowed upon his 
other compositions in his latest editions ; but, without 
separating his part from the rest, and making every 
allowance for inexperience of style, we may readily 
enough detect throughout its pages the genius of 
Washington Irving. 

Leaving the particular elucidation of the special 
authorship of the various articles to his literary 
executor and biographer, if he shall think proper 
in his forthcoming work to make such an investiga- 
tion and disclosure, we may here generally state, 
for the information of the reader, that Salma- 
gundi was the joint production of William Irving, 
James Kirke Paulding, and Washington Irving. 
It is well known that the humorous and sentimental 
poetry of the work was wholly written by William 
Irving, who was at the time a merchant of JSTew 
York, and some seventeen years older than his 
brother Washington. The genial and inventive 
faculties of William Irving were of a high order. 
Besides the poetry of Salmagundi, the work is in- 
debted to him lor occasional hints and sketches 
worked up by his brother, among which may be 
mentioned the amusing picture of the civic militia 
exercises in the letter of Mustapha, in the fifth 
number, and the equally humorous sketch, of more 
serious import, of the political " slang-whangers " 
in the fourteenth. 



EDITOR' ti PREFACE. vii 

William Irving married tlie sister of James Kirke 
Paulding, who came from his home in Westchester 
County, to New York, for the first time, on a visit 
to his new relative. He found the house of his 
brother-in-law in the city the genial resort of a 
knot of wits and humorists who graced the Callio- 
pean Society, a literary institution of those daj's. 
An intimacy with Washington Irving sprang up, 
of which in due time came the joint authorship of 
Salmagundi, which was thus a species of family 
party. A considerable portion of the book was 
written by Paulding. We may, perhaps, trace his 
pen in the oriental papers, a form of writing for 
which he retained a liking, and which he practiced 
with great spirit and elegance to the last. Many 
of the exquisite passages of description of nature 
were undoubtedly written by him. "Mine Uncle 
John," a mellow, fine toned portrait, was his work, 
and he had a hand in " Autumnal Reflections," one 
of the most refined sentimental papers of the vol- 
ume. It is, perhaps, a common misapprehension 
of this eminent writer, that his pen was wanting in 
geniality, and that he took rather a splenetic view 
of life. This notion has probably arisen fi-ora the 
admission of a controversial element into his pro- 
ductions where, perhaps, it might have been better 
shut out; but certainly, with this exception, no 
American writer has spread upon his page more 
feeling observation, more friendly truths, more ge- 
nial sympathies. His favorite method of the ap- 
ologue affords a kindly proof of this, which is no* 
to be mistaken by those skilled in literary physiog 
nomy. 

Some ten years or more after the conclusion of 
Salmagundi, Paulding ventured alone upon a sec 
end series. Washington Irving was in Eiu-ope, and 



Viii EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

the muse of Pindar Cockloft was silent. It was a 
dangerous undertaking, for the very essence of a Sal' 
magundi is the combination of divers ingredients — 
a product of many minds. The new work proved 
a little too uniform and didactic in parts. Geoffrey 
Crayon could have pruned and heigLcened it here 
and there. Yet it contains many delightful pages. 
There is, among other things, a charming account 
of a further visit to the old Cockloft Hall, inviting 
as the old. One passage in it — the death of old 
Cassar — has a genuine touch of pathos. The 
cherry-tree had fallen which he had assisted his mas- 
ter to plant sixty years before, and the poor negro 
" seemed smitten with the same blast that leveled 
it. It was curious," concludes the little narrative, 
" to see how the errors of his early impressions — 
for he was sixteen years old when brought from 
Africa — had mixed up with the simple ideas im- 
planted subsequently, respecting the Cliristian re- 
ligion. His kind mistresses ministered to the wants 
of his soul, as well as the infirmities of his body, 
and endeavored to make him comprehend the 
mysteries of our faith. But they were beyond his 
reach. He feared, he said, ' the Lord would not 
know him' — meaning that, lowly as he was, it 
might escape the Divinity that such a being had 
ever existed. His decay was gradual, but the 
state of his mind was singularly compounded of the 
mistakes of ignorance and the ramblings of light- 
headedness, as it is called. The day before he died 
I was in to see him. ' Massa Launcelot,' said he, 
' think old negro like me ever go to heaven ? ' 'I 
warrant you, old Caesar,' replied I. He seemed com- 
forted with the assurance, but still a doubt hung on 
his mind — ' What will old neg-ro like me do there ? ' 
— Then his eye seemed glad for a moment, and his 



EDITORS PREFACE. - [x 

last words were — * Never mind — I can wait upon 
^he angels.' " 

While we write, the remains of this author, at 
the venerable age of eighty-two, are being borne to 
the tomb. It is due to his memory, and to his gen- 
erous participation in the literature of the day, to 
express the opinion that when the productions of 
Paulding, now for some time hidden from the world, 
shall be revived, the public will again find in^hem, 
a freshness and interest, a spirit and humor, unaba- 
ted since their first appearance. To the inhabitants 
of New York in particular, they will present strong 
claims to attention, for the author, though he turned 
his back upon the city, was a genuine son of Man- 
hattan. 

Of the third writer, Washington Irving, it is not 
necessary here to speak, nor have we occasion, as 
we have said, further to point out his share in the 
work. The many graces and excellences of his 
style are too well known for the reader to need 
a guide to find them out. He will meet everywhere 
in these pages the first sprightly efforts of invention, 
the playful humor, the sportive fancy, the tender 
sentiment which constituted in youth as in age — 
Washino'ton Irvino;. 

A word should be said of the publisher of the 
work, David Longworth, a gentleman as much given 
to whimwhams as any of the race so pleasantly sat- 
irized in the little yellow-covered numbers which ho 
sent forth fortnightly to the pubhc. He was the 
theatrical publisher of the day, in the neighborhood 
of the old Park Theatre, then a new building, hold- 
ing his place of business on the spot now sacred so 
the good cheer of Windust. Here he displayed, on 
the outer wall, a huge painting of the crowning of 
Shakespeare ; while within, a distinction for those 



X "'• EDITOR'S PREFACE. 

times in the infant state of the arts, his shop boasted 
as its attraction a series of the prints of AKlerman 
Boydell's recently published Shakespeare Gallery. 
He had been a printer, and had ingrafted on his 
occupation a taste for elegance in typography, en- 
graving, and binding. His beautiful " Telemachus '* 
and other publications, would, in our day, be simply 
accounted neat ; but in his time they made a sensa- 
tion, very much as luxuries of furniture and living, 
now enjoyed by everybody, were then considered 
somewhat aristocratic, and reserved only for un- 
doubted affluence. But Longworth had a special 
whim for elegance. He called his shop, by a fine 
effort of the imagination, " The Sentimental Epi- 
cure's Ordinary ; " and as a proof of his judgment, 
trifled with the English language. In the original 
edition of some of his books, proper names are 
spelt with small initial letters. Oddly enough, the 
man who was so grandiloquent himself would not 
allow New York its appropriate capitals. It must 
be written new-york, and portly Philadelphia must 
dwindle in lower-case. The wags of Salmagundi, 
while they were laughing at the town, must some- 
times have been tempted to place a full length of 
their humorist publisher on his pages. 

Salmagundi was quite a success on its first ap- 
pearance. It did not make a fortune for its authors. 
That was hardly to be expected of so modest a 
little pamphlet ; but it created its impression. Slight 
as it was in form, and apparently written off so 
carelessly, it was really the most formidable incur- 
sion which had yet been made in America into the 
realm of taste in this species of literature. Frank- 
lin had written a half dozen agreeable essays for a 
newspaper, and addressed a few complimentary 
apologues to the French ladies Francis llopkinson 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. - XI 

was really an elegant author, who, like Belknap in 
the Foresters, had turned the graces of his pen to 
the decoration of politics ; Dennie wrote some inge- 
nious lay sermons, and was steeped in rhetorical 
refinements : but none of these were read by the 
fair. We do not, indeed, recall a single book writ- 
ten in America worthy of Belinda's toilet-table be- 
fore Salmagundi. 

As for the success out of doors, it must have been 
a cheerful thing to witness. Dr. Francis, the genial 
reminiscent, tells us : — 

" Ere half a dozen numbers of Salmagundi were 
issued, quite a commotion arose among the literati 
and the public concerning the work and its authors. 
The humble drudges about town, who had lived 
obscurely, yet fancied themselves members of the 
literary world by their revision of Dil worth; and 
the editors of catechisms with explanatory notes, 
were astounded at that greater eclat which elegant 
letters secured, and which was denied to their unin- 
ventive products ; while fashionable coteries every- 
where were prodigal of conjectures from what mine 
the gold dust was brought to light for the common- 
wealth of letters. Salmagundi was found at almost 
every tea-table. The sale announced the fact that 
literary property was both vendible and profitable." 
The " characters " sketched in these pleasant 
papers were doubtless drawn more or less from the 
life, and included most of the notabilities of the town, 
with occasionally a glance beyond it. There are 
said to be some touches of Dennie, the essayist and 
critic of Philadelphia, in Launcelot Langstaff. A 
whole bevy of beaux and belles saw themselves re- 
fleeted in the Ding Dongs and Sophy Sparkles. The 
base metal of Brummagem adventurers and spend- 
thrifts was nailed to the counter bv the satire of 



Xii EDITORS PREFACE. 

Straddle : theatrical critics were silenced by a glance 
at themselves in the mirror of ' Sbidlikens ; fashion- 
able upstarts shrank from the portraits of the Giblets ; 
the small-beer of the politician soured at the thun- 
dering satire of Dabble ; the feathers of the carpet 
soldiers wilted when they were paraded in the regi- 
ment of the Far>:-rao;s. Salmagundi was the mild 
terror of the town when society was not too over- 
grown an instrument to be played upon by a cun- 
ning musician. 

New York was a queer place then, as our own 
New York may be, doubtless, to our descendants 
fitly years hence, if they have a pair of Salmagundi 
spectacles to see it with. There were all sorts of 
humors aHoat, small and great, from fashionable 
nothings, with their idle brains, to the heads of 
great projectors teeming with national wonders. 
We see something of all in the book. There is 
that North River Society which figures on so many 
pages. Were the wits conscious how much of the 
future these humorous projectors, the Stevenses, the 
Livingstons, and Fultons, held in as yet uncrystalized 
solution in their vagaries ? Mr. Ichabod Fungus 
laughs at that " aquatic mole or water rat," the "Tor- 
pedo," with which the great inventor entertained the 
town at the Battery, but we -hear nothing of his 
waggery when the Clermont ascends the Hudson. 
It was the heyday, too, of the Jeffersonian era, and 
the reader may get a very good idea of the feelings 
entertained towards the sage of Monticello, in respect 
to his " economical " administration of embargos and 
gun-boats. 

How distant it all seems — far removed as the 
days of the " Spectator " itself, the parent of this 
fluttering |)rogeuy of humors and anticipations of 
the gentle essayists. There is nothing of New York 



EDITOR'S PREFACE. XIU 

of the present time in its pages — of our bustling, 
driving, busy era. The town seems then to have 
had an hour or two for a little tea-table chat. The 
demon of ceaseless work had not then taken such 
fnll possession of the world. There was something 
to laugh over, and sorrow had leisure for a tear. 
There were actors then ; people went to the theatre, 
and talked over the performance when they came 
away. Where is the great George Frederick now, 
and the gentle accents of Cooper ? The poor wiz- 
ened Frenchmen, exiles of Europe and Saint Do- 
mingo, whose quaint habits so perplexed My Aunt 
Charity, where are they ? Vanished fi'om earth, 
but not before their fadeless images were stamped 
within the leaves of this book. 

Well, all have gone, writers and actors. The 
garments of the beaux would startle us like ghosts 
if we were to look into the old wardrobes ; the 
beauty of the belles has withered into ashes ; good 
and evil undreamt of have come out of the inventors 
and politicians ; a new generation swarms with a 
new set of follies, and we write the eulogies and 
epitaphs of the departed humorists. So runs the 
world away, will be the reflection of the reader as 
he lays down these sprightly pages, redolent of 
youth and vivacity, of the spring-time of life, when 
satu'e itself has no bitterness, though it may affect 
scornful words and frowning emphasis, when hope 
spreads its gayest hues of promise, and melancholy 
itself has its tinct of eloquence and pleasure. 



The text of this edition is that of the original 
work as it was first published by Longworth. In 
the subsequent reprints, several papers of interest 



xiv EDITORS PREFACE. 

were dropped, wliich are now restored. A few ver- 
bal corrections have been made, following the Paris 
edition of Irving's works of 1834, which had more 
or less of the author's supervision. The notes to 
that copy, so far as they extended, have been re- 
tained, and will be found to be appropriately cred- 
ited. 

The interesting sketch of the Summer-house of 
Cockloft Hall, which appears as the frontispiece, is 
a contribution to the volume from Mr. W. A. White- 
head, of Newark. 

New York, ApHl 7, 1860. 





CONTENTS. 
— • — 

KO. PAQB 

1 --SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1807 . . . 1 

Publisher's Notice, Shakespeare Galleky, 
New York 4 

From the Elbow-chair of Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esq 5 

Theatrics — Containing the Quintessence 
of Modern Criticism. By William Wiz- 
ard, Esq 14 

New York Assembly. By Anthony Ever- 
green, Gent 17 

II. - WEDNESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1807. From 
the Elbow-chair of Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esq 24 

Mr. Wilson's Concert. By Anthony Ever- 
green, Gent .31 

Cockloft Family 34 

To Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. ... 39 
Advertisement 43 

IIL — FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1807. From my 

Elbow-chair ....... 46 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Kelt 
Khan, Captain of a Ketch, to Asem 
Hacchem, Principal Slave-driver to 
His Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli . 49 
Fashions. By Anthony Evergreen, Gent. 55 

Incog 58 

Proclamation, i rom the Mill of Pindar 

Cockloft, Esq. • 62 

Dr. Christopher Costive .... 66 



xvi CONTENTS. 

NO. FASB 

IV. —TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1807. From 

MY Elbow-chaik 71 

Memoramdums for a Tour to bk entitled 
" The Stranger in New Jersey ; or, 
Cockney Travelling." By Jehemy 
Cockloft, the Younger .... 75 

FROiM MY Elbow-chair 84 

Flummery. From the Mill of Pindar 
Cockloft, Esq. ; being a Poem with 
Notes, or rather Notes with a Poem ; 
IN THE Manner of Dr. Christopher 
Costive 86 

v. — SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 1807. From my 

Elbow-chair 99 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli 
Khan, to Abdallah Eb'n Al Rahab, 

SURNAMED the SnORER, MILITARY SEN- 
TINEL AT THE Gate of His Highness' 

Palace 99 

By Anthony Evergreen, Gent. . . Ill 
To the Ladies. From the Mill of Pin- 
dar Cockloft, Esq 113 

VL — FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 1807. From my El- 
bow-chair 123 

Theatrics. By William Wizard, Esq. . 136 

VII. — SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 1807. Letter from 
Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli Khan, to 
AsEM Hacchem, Principal Slaa'E-Driver 
to His Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli 146 
From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 
Notes by William Wizard, Esq. . . 157 

VTIL— SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1807. By Anthony 

Evergreen, Gent 164 

On Style. By William Wizard, Esq. . 173 

To CohllK.sPONDENTS 182 



CONTENTS. Xldi 

NO. PAOX 

IX. — SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807. From my 

Elbow-chair 187 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli 
Khan, Captaik of a Ketv^h, to Asem 
Haochem, Principal Slave-driver to 
His Highness the Bashaw of Tripoli . 197 

From the Mill ok Pindar Cockloft, 
Esq 206 

X.— SATURDAY, MAY 16, 1807. From my El- 
bow-chair 212 

To Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. . . . 214 
The Stranger in Pennsylvania. By 
Jeremy Cockloft, the Y''ounger . . 221 

XL — TUESDAY, JUNE 2,1807. Letter from 
Mustapha Rub-a-Bub Keli Khan, Cap- 
tain OF A Ketch, to Asem Hacchem, 
Principal Slave-driver to His High- 
ness the Bashaw of Tripoli . . . 232 
From my Elbow-chair. Mine Uncle John 244 

XII. — SATURDAY, JUNE 27, 1807. From my 

Elbow-chair 254 

The Stranger at Home; or, a Tour, in 
Broadway. By Jeremy Cockloft, the 

Y'ounger 205 

From my Elbow-chair 275 

From the Mill of Pindar Cockloft, Esq. 276 

XIII. — FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1807. From my El- 
bow-chair 281 

Plans for defending our Harbor. By 

William Wizard, Esq 285 

From my Elbow-chair. A Retrospect; 

OR, "What You Will" . . . .295 
To Ueadki;s Ajsi^ Correspondents . . 308 
b 



xviii CONTENTS. 

nc PAW 

XI 7. — SATURDAY, SEPT. 16, 1807. Lettpr from 
MusTAPHA Rub- A -Dub Keli Khan, 

TO ASKM HaCCHEM, PRINCIPAL SlAVE- 

DRiVER TO His Highness the Bashaw 

OF Tripoli 310 

Cockloft Hall. By Launcelot Lanq- 

STAFF, Esq. ... . . 322 

Theatrical Intelligence. By William 

Wizard, Esq 335 

XV. — THURSDAY, OCT. 1, 1807. Sketches 

from Nature. By Anthony Ever- 
green, Gknt 340 

On Greatness. By Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esq 349 

XVI. —THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 1807. Style 

AT Ballston. By William Wizard, 

Esq 360 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli 
Khan, to Asem Hacchkm, Principal 
Slave-driver to His Highness the 
Bashaw of Tripoli .... 368 

XVIL— WEDNESDAY, NOV. 11, 1807. Autumnal 
Reflections. By Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esq 380 

By Launcelot Langstaff, Esq. . . 386 
Chap. CIX. — Of the Chronicles of 
THE Renowned and Antient City of 
Gotham 392 

XVHL — TUESDAY, NOV. 24, 1807. The Little 
Man in Black. By Launcelot Lang- 
staff, Esq. 401 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli 
Khan, to Asem Hacchem, Principal 
Slave - driver to His Highness the 
Bashaw of Tripoli .... 411 



CONTENTS. xix 

"*'• PAGK 

XIX. — THURSDAY, DEC. 31, 1807. From my 

Elbow-chair 42() 

Letter from Mustapha Rub-a-Dub Keli 
Khan, to Muley Helim Al Raggi, Sur- 
named The Agreeable Ragamuffin, 
Chief Mountebank and Buffa-dancer 

to His Highness 422 

By Anthony Evergreen, Gent. . . 434 
Tea: A Poem 441 

XX. — MONDAY, JANUARY 25, 1808. From my 

Elbow-chair 443 

To the Ladies. By Anthony Ever- 
green, Gent 453 

Fareavell . 468 




SALMAGUNDI. 



NO. I.— SATURDAY, JANUARY 24, 1807. 




[S everybody knows, or ought to know, 
what a Salmagund is, we shall spare 
ourselves the trouble of an explanation ; 
besides, we despise trouble as we do everything 
low and mean, and hold the man who would in- 
cur it unnecessarily as an object worthy our high- 
est pity and contempt. Neither will we puzzle 
our heads to give an account of ourselves, for 
two reasons ; first, because it is nobody's business ; 
secondly, because if it were, we do not hold our- 
selves bound to attend to anybody's business but 
ot»r own ; and even that we take the liberty of 
neglecting when it suits our inclination. To 
these we might add a third, that very few men 
can give a tolerable account of themselves, let 
them try ever so hard ; but this reason we can- 
didly avow, would not hold good with ourselves. 

There are, however, two or three pieces of in- 
formation which we bestow gratis on the public, 
chiefly because it suits our own pleasure and 
convein'ence that they should be known, and 

pnrtly because we do not wish that there should 
3 



2 SALMAGUNDI. 

be aiiy ill will between us at the commencemenl 
of our acquaintance. 

Our intention is simply to instruct the young, 
reform tiie old, correct the town, and castigate the 
age ; this is an arduous task, and therefore we 
undertake it with confidence. We intend for this 
purpose to present a striking picture of the town ; 
and as everybody is anxious to see his own phiz 
on canvas, however stupid or ugly it may be, we 
have no doubt but the whole town will flock to 
our exhibition. Our picture will necessarily 
include a vast variety of figures ; and should any 
gentleman or lady be displeased with the inveter- 
ate truth of their likenesses, they may ease their 
spleen by laughing at those of their neighbors — 
this being what we understand by poetical justice. 

Like all true and able editors, we consider 
ourselves infallible ; and therefore, with the cus- 
tomary diffidence of our brethren of the quill, we 
shall take the liberty of interfering in all matters 
either of a public or a private nature. We are 
critics, amateurs, dilettanti, and cognoscenti ; and 
as we know " by the pricking of our thumbs," 
that every opinion which we may advance in 
either of those characters will be correct, we are 
determined, though it may be questioned, contra- 
dicted, or even controverted, yet it shall never be 
revoked. 

We beg the public particularly to understand 
that we solicit no patronage. We are deter- 
mined, on the contrary, that the patronage shall 
be entirely on our side. We have nothing to do 
with the pecuniary concerns of the paper ; its 



TO OUR FRIENDS. 3 

success will yield us neither pride nor profit — 
uor will its failure occasion to us either loss or 
mortification. We advise the public, therefore, 
to purchase our numbers merely for their own 
sakes ; if they do not, let them settle the affair 
with their consciences and posterity. 

To conclude, we invite all editors of news- 
papers and literary journals to praise us heart- 
ily in advance, as we assure them that we intend 
to deserve their praises. To our next-door 
neighbor, " Town," ^ we hold out a hand of 
amity, declaring to him Uiat, after ours, his paper 
will stand the best chance for immortality. We 
proffer an exchange of civilities : he shall furnish 
us with notices of epic poems and tobacco ; and 
we in return will enrich him with original specu- 
lations on all manner of subjects, together with 
" the rummaging of my grandfather's mahogany 
chest of drawers," " the life and amours of mine 
Uncle John," " anecdotes of the Cockloft family," 
and learned quotations from that unheard of 
writer of folios, Linkum Fidelius. 

1 The title of a newspaper published in New York, the 
columns of which, aaiong other miscellaneous topics, occa- 
Bionally contained strictures on the performances at the thea* 
tres. — Paris Ed. 



4 SALMAGUNDI. 

PUBLISHER'S NOTICE. 

SHAKESPEARE GALLERY, NEW YORK.l 

THIS work will be published and sold by D 
Long worth. It will be printed on hot- 
pressed vellum paper, as that is held in highest 
estimation for buckling up young ladies' hair — a 
purpose to which similar works are usually ap- 
propriated ; it will be a small, neat, duodecimo 
size, so that, when enough numbers are written, 
it may form a volume sufficiently portable to be 
carried in old ladies' pockets and young ladies' 
work-bags. 

As the above work will not come out at stated 
periods, notice will be given when another num- 
ber will be published. The price will depend on 
the size of the number, and must be paid on de- 
livery. The publisher professes the same sub- 
lime contempt for money as his authors. The 
liberal, patronage bestowed by his discerning fel- 
low-citizens on various works of taste which he 

1 David Longworth, an eccentric bookseller, had filled a 
large apartment with the valuable engravings of " Boydell's 
Shakespeare Gallery," magnificently framed, and had nearly 
obscured the front of his house with a huge sign — a colossal 
painting in chiaroscuro, of the crowning of Shakespeare. 
Longworth had an extraordinary propensity to publish ele- 
gant works, to the great gratification of persons of taste, and 
the no small diminution of his own slender fortune. He 
alludes ironically to this circumstance in the present notice. — 
J'aris Ed. Longworth's store was in Park Row, near the 
Park Theatre. He was the dramatic publisher of New York 
in his (lay, and long issued the City Directory. 



ADVICE TO THE ^PUBLIC. 5 

has published, has left him no inclination to ask 
for further favors at tlieir hands, and he publishes 
this work in the mere hope of requiting their 
bounty.^ 



FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT 
LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

7 E were a considerable time in decidino' 

o 

whether we should be at the pains of in- 
troducing ourselves to the public. As we care 
for nobody, and as we are not yet at the bar, we 
do not feel bound to hold up our hands and an- 
swer to our names. 

Willing, however, to gain at once that frank, 
confidential footing, wliich we are certain of ulti- 
mately possessing in this, doubtless, " best of all 
possible cities ; " and anxious to spare its worthy 
inhabitants the trouble of making a thousand 
wise conjectures, not one of which woidd be 
worth a tobacco-stopper, we have thought it in 
some degree a necessary exertion of charitable 
condescension to furnish them with a slight clew 
to the truth. 

Before we proceed further, however, we advise 
everybody, man, woman, and child, that can read, 

1 It was not orifcinally the intention of the authors to insert 
the above address in the -work ; but, unwilling that a morceau 
60 precious should be lost to posterity, they have been induced 
to alter their minds. This will account for any repetition of 
iilea that may appear in the introductory essay. — Note to 
original Ed. 



6 SALMAGUNDI. 

or get any friend to read for them, to purchase 
this paper — not that we write for money, for, in 
common with all philosophical wiseacres, from 
Solomon downward, we hold it in supreme con- 
tempt. The public are welcome to buy this 
work, or not, just as they choose. If it be pur- 
chased freely, so much the better for the public 
— and the publisher ; we gain not a stiver. If 
it be not purchased, we give fair warning — we 
shall burn all our essays, critiques, and epigrams, 
in one promiscuous blaze ; and, like the books of 
the sibyls and the Alexandrian Library, they 
will be lost forever to posterity. For the sake, 
therefore, of our publisher, for the sake of the 
public, and for tlie sake of the public's children 
to the nineteenth generation, we advise them to 
purchase our paper. We beg the respectable 
old matrons of this city not to be alarmed at the 
appearance we make ; we are none of those out- 
landish geniuses who swarm in New York, who 
live by their wits, or rather by the little w^it of 
their neighbors, and who spoil the genuine honest 
American tastes of their daughters with French 
slops and fricasseed sentiment. 

We have said we do not write for money — 
neither do we write for fame ; we know too well 
the variable nature of public opinion to build 
our hopes upon it — we care not what the public 
think of us, and we suspect, before we reach the 
tenth number, they will not know what to think 
of us. In two words, we write for no other 
earthly purpose but to please ourselves ; and 
this we shall be sure of doing, for we are all 



OVR INTENTIONS. 7 

three of us determined beforehand to be pleased 
with what we write. If, in the course of this 
work, we edify and instruct and amuse the pub- 
lic, so much the better for the public ; but we 
frankly acknowledge that so soon as we get tired 
of readinof our own works, we shall discontinue 
them without the least remorse, whatever the 
public may think of it. While we continue to 
go on, we will go on merrily : if we moralize, it 
shall be but seldom ; and, on all occasions, we 
shall be more solicitous to make our readers 
laugh than cry ; for we are laughing philosophers, 
and clearly of opinion that wisdom, true wisdom, 
is a plump, jolly dame, who sits in her arm-chair, 
laughs right merrily at the farce of life — and 
takes the world as it goes. 

We intend particularly to notice the conduct 
of the fashionable world ; nor in this shall we 
be governed by that carping spirit with which 
narrow-minded book-worm cynics squint at the 
little extravagances of the ton ; but with that 
liberal toleration which actuates every man of 
fashion. While we keep more than a Cerberus 
watch over the guardian rules of female delicacy 
and decorum, we shall not discourage any little 
sprightliness of demeanor, or innocent vivacity 
of character. Before we advance one line fur- 
ther, we must let it be understood, as our firm 
opinion, void of all prejudice or partiality, that 
the ladies of New York are the fairest, the 
finest, tl^e most accomplished, the most bewitch- 
ing, the most ineffable beings that walk, creep, 
crawl, swim, fly, float, or vegetate in any or all 



8 SALMAGVNDI. 

of the four elements ; and that they only want 
to be cured of certain whims, eccentricities, and 
unseemly conceits, by our superintending cares, 
to render them absolutely perfect. They will, 
therefore, receive a large portion of those atten- 
tions directed to the fasliionable world ; nor v/ill 
the gentlemen who doze away their time in the 
circles of the haul-ton escape our currying. We 
mean those stupid fellows who sit stock-still upon 
their chairs, without saying a word, and then 

complain, " How stupid it was at Mrs. 's 

party.^ 

This department will be under the peculiar 
direction and control of Anthony Evergreen, 
gent., to whom all communications on this sub- 
ject are to be addressed. This gentleman, from 
his long experience in the routine of balls, tea- 
parties, and assemblies, is eminently qualified for 
the task he has undertaken. He is a kind of 
patriarch in the fashionable world, and has seen 
generation after generation pass away into the 
silent tomb of raati-imony while he remains un- 
changeably the same. He can recount the 
amours and courtsliips of the fathers, mothers, 
uncles, and aunts, and even the grandames, of all 
tlie belles of the present day — provided their 
pedigrees extend so far back without being lost 
in obscurity. As, however, treating of pedigrees 
is rather an ungrateful task in this city, and as 
we mean to be perfectly good-natured, he has 
promised to be cautious in this particuiar. He 
recollects perfectly the time when young ladies 
used to go sleigh-riding at night, without their 



KISSING^BRIDGE. 9 

mammas or grand mammas ; in short, without 
being matroniz d at all : and can relate a thou- 
Band pleasant stories about Kissing-bridge.-^ He 
likewise remembers the time when ladies paid 
tea-visits, at three in the afternoon, and returned 
before dark to see that the house was shut up 
and the servants on duty. He has often played 
cricket in the orchard in the rear of old Vaux- 
hall, and remembers when the Bull's Head '^ was 

1 Amongst the amusements of the citizens in times gone 
by was that of making excurrsions in the winter evenings, on 
sleighs, to some neighboring village, where the social party 
had a ball and supper. Kissing-bridge had its name from 
the circumstance that here the beaux exacted from their fair 
companions the forfeiture of a kiss before permitting their 
travelling vehicles to pass over. — Paris Ed. 

The Rev. Andrew Burnaby, Vicar of Greenwich, in his 
" travels through the Middle Settlements in North America, 
in the years 1759 and 1760." has this mention of the spot, 
fixing the locality near Fiftieth street, near the site of old 
Cato's. " The amusements of the New-Yorkers," says Bur- 
naby, "are balls and sleighing expeditions in the winter; in 
the summer, going in parties upon the water and fishing, or 
making excursions into the country. There are several houses 
pleasantly suited upon East River, near New York, where it 
is common to have turtle feasts: these happen once or twice 
in a week. Thirty or forty gentlemen and ladies meet and 
dine together, drink tea in the afternoon, fish and amuse 
themselves till evening, and then return home in Italian 
chaises, a gentleman and lady in each chaise. In the way 
there is a bridge, about three miles distant from New York, 
which you always pass over as you return, called the Kissing- 
bridge, Avhere it is a part of the etiquette to salute the lady 
who has put herself under your protection." From this it 
would appear that the privileges of Kissing bridge were not 
confined to sleighing parties. 

'■i Old V auxhaU stood at the corner of Warren and Green- 



10 SALMAGUNDI. 

quite out of town. Though he has slowly and 
gradually given in to modei-n fashions, and still 
flourishes in the beau-monde, yet he seems a 
little prejudiced in favor of the dress and man- 
ners of the old school; and his chief commenda- 
tion of a new mode is, " that it is the same good 
old fashion we had before the war." It has cost 
us much trouble to make him confess that a co- 
tillon is superior to a minuet, or an unadorned 
crop to a pig-tail and powder. Custom and 
fashion have, however, had more effect on him 
than all our lectures ; and he tempers, so hap- 
pily, the grave and ceremonious gallantry of the 
old school with the " liail-fellow " familiarity of 
the new, that we trust, on a little acquaintance, 
and making allowance for his old-fashioned preju- 
dices, he will become a very considerable favorite 
with our readers — if not, the worse for them- 
selves, as they will have to endure his com- 
pany. 

In the territory of criticism, William Wizard, 

wich streets, and was originaliy the residence of Sir Peter 
Warren. It fell into the hands of Sam Fraunces, the famous 
tavern-keeper, who kept it as a public garden. Fraunces 
was the steward of General Washington. A later Vauxhall 
was kept in the neighhorhood of Broome Street by Delacroix, 
who removed the establishment about 1808 to the better known 
Vauxhall Garden, which extended from the Bowery to Broad- 
way', crossing the present Lafayette Place and site of the 
Astor Library. The Bull's Head, the chief cattle mart, occu- 
pied the site of the Bowery Theatre, and has travelled upward 
with the growth of city, making one or two halting -places on 
that avenue on its way to its present position in the Fifth 
Avenue. 



ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF WILL WIZARD. H 

Esq., has undertaken to preside ; and though we 
may all dabble in it a little bv turns, yet we have 
willingly ceded to him all discretionary powers in 
this respect. Though Will has not had the ad- 
vantage of an education at Oxford or Cambridge, 
or even at Edinburgh or Aberdeen, and though 
he is but little versed in Hebrew, yet we hav^e 
no doubt he will be found fully competent to the 
undertaking. He has improved his taste by a 
long residence abroad, particularly at Canton, 
Calcutta, and the gay and polished court of Hayti. 
He has also had an opportunity of seeing the best 
singing-girls and tragedians of China, is a great 
connoisseur in mandarin dresses, and porcelain, 
and particularly values himself on his intimate 
knowledge of the buffalo, and war-dances of the 
northern Indians. He is likewise promised the 
assistance of a gentleman, lately from London, 
who was born and bred in that centre of science 
and hon gout^ the vicinity of Fleet Market, where 
he has been edified, man and boy, these six-and- 
twenty years, with the harmonious jingle of Bow- 
bells. His taste, therefore, has attained to such 
an exquisite pitch of refinement that there are 
few exhibitions of any kind which do not put 
him in a fever. He has assured Will, that if Mr. 
Cooper emphasizes '' and " instead of " hut" or 
Mrs. Oldmixon pins her kerchief a hair's breadth 
awry, or Mrs. Darley offers to dare to look less 
than the " daughter of a senator of Venice," — 
the standard of a senator's daughter being exactly 
six feet, — they shall all hear of it in good time. 
We have, however, advised Will Wizard to keep 



12 SALMAGUNDI. 

his friend in check, lest, by opening the eyes of 
the public to the wretchedness uf the actors by 
whom they have hitherto been entertained, he 
might cut off one source of amusement from our 
fellow citizens. We hereby give notice, that we 
have taken the whole corps, from the manager in 
his mantle of gorgeous copper-lace to honest John 
in his green coat and black breeches, under our 
wing — and woe be unto him who injures a hair 
of their heads. As we have no design against 
the patience of oar fellow-citizens, we shall not 
dose them with copious draughts of theatrical 
criticism ; we well know that they have already 
been well physicked with them of late ; our the- 
atrics shall take up but a small part of our paper ; 
nor sliall they be altogether confined to the stage, 
but extend from time to time to those incorrigible 
offenders against the peace of society, the stage- 
critics, who not unfrequently create the fault they 
find, in order to yield an opening for their witti- 
cisms — censure an actor for a gesture he never 
made, or an emphasis he never gave ; and, in their 
attempt to show off new readings, make the sweet 
swan of Avon cackle like a goose. If any one 
should feel himself offended by our remarks, let 
him attack us in return — we shall not wince 
from the combat. W his passes be successful, we 
will be the first to cry out, a hit ! a hit ! and we 
doubt not we shall frequently lay ourselves open 
to the weapons of our assailants. But let them 
have a care how they run a tilling with us ; they 
have to deal with stubborn foes, who can bear a 
world of pummelling ; we will be relentless in 



OURSELVES. 13 

our vengeance, and will fight " till from our bones 
the flesh be hack't." 

What other subjects we shall include in the 
range of our observations, we have not determined, 
or rather we shall not trouble ourselves to detail. 
The public have already more information con- 
cerning us, than wc intended to impart. We owe 
them no favors, neither do we ask any. We 
again advise them, for their own sakes, to read 
our papers when they come out. We recommend 
to all mothers to purchase them for their daughters, 
who will be taught the true line of propriety, and 
the most advisable method of manaofing their 
beaux. We advise all daughters to purchase them 
for the sake of their mothers, who shall be initi- 
ated into the arcana of the bon-ton, and cured of 
all those rusty old notions which they acquired 
during the last century: parents shall be taught 
how to govern their children, girls how to get 
husbands, and old maids how to do without them. 

As we do not measure our wits by the yard or 
the bushel, and as they do not flow periodically 
nor constantly, we shall !iot restrict our paper as 
to size or the time of its appearance. It will be 
published whenever we have sufficient matter to 
constitute a number, and the size of the number 
shall depend on the stock in hand. This will best 
suit our neojliofent habits, and leave us that full 
liberty and independence which is the joy and 
pride of our souls. As we have before hinted, 
that we do not concern ourselves about the 
pecuniary matters of our paper, we leave its price 
to be regulated by oui- publisher : only recommend- 



14 SALMAGUNDI. 

ing him, for his own interest, and the honor of its 
authors, not to sell their invaluable productions 
too cheap. 

Is there any one who wishes to know more 
about us ? — let him read Salmagundi, and grow 
wise apace. Thus mucli we vvill say — there 
are three of us, " Bardolph, Peto, and J," all 
townsmen good and true ; many a time and 
oft have we three amused the town without its 
knowing to whom it was indebted ; and many a 
time have we seen the midnight lamp twinkle 
faintly on our studious phizes, and heard the morn- 
ing salutation of '' past three o'clock," before we 
sought our pillows. The result of these mid- 
night studies is now offered to the public ; and 
little as we care for the opinion of this exceed- 
ingly stupid world, we shall take care, as far as 
lies in our careless natures, to fulfill the promises 
made in this introduction ; if we do not, we shall 
have so many examples to justify us, that we feel 
little solicitude on that account. 



THEATRICS — CONTAINING THE QUINTESSENCE 
OF MODERN CRITICISM. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

MACBETH was performed to a very crowded 
house, and much to our satisfaction. As, 
liovvever. our neighbor " Town " has been very 
voluminous already in liis criticisms on this play, 
we shall make but ^ew remarks. Having never 



THEATRICALS. 15 

seen Kemble in this character, we are absolutely 
at a loss to say whether Mr. Cooper pertbrmed 
it well or not. We think, however, there was an 
error in his costume^ as the learned Linkum Fide- 
lias is of opinion that in the time of Macbeth 
the Scots did not wear sandals, but wooden shoes. 
Macbeth also was noted for wearing his jacket 
open, that he might play the Scotch fiddle more 
conveniently — that being a hereditary accomplish- 
ment in the Glamis family. 

We have seen this character performed in 
China, by the celebrated Cliow-Ghow, the Rosciua 
of that great empire, who in the dagger scene 
always electrified the audience by blowing his 
nose like a trumpet. Chow- Chow, in compliance 
with the opinion of the sage Linkum Fidelius, 
performed Macbeth in wooden shoes ; this gave 
him an opportunity of producing great effect, for 
on first seeing the " air-drawn dagger," he always 
cut a prodigious high caper, and kicked his shoes 
into the pit at the heads oAthe critics ; whereupon 
the audience were marvelously delighted, flour- 
ished their hands, and stroked their whiskers three 
times, and the matter was carefidly recorded in 
the next number of a paper called the FlimFlam 
(English, -Town"). 

We were much pleased with Mrs. Villiers in 
Lady Macbeth ; but we think she would have 
given a greater effect to the night scene, if, instead 
of holdino^ the candle in her hand, or setting it 
down on the table, which is sagaciously censured 
by neighbor " Town," she had stuck it in her 
night-cap. This would have been extremely pic- 



16 SALMAGUNDI. 

turesque, and would have marked more strongly 
the derangement of her mind. 

Mrs. Villiers is not by any means large enough 
for the character : Lady Macbeth having been, in 
our opinion, a woman of extraordinary size, and 
of the race of the giants, notwithstanding what 
she says of her " little hand" — which being said 
in her sleep passes for nothing. We should be 
happy to see this character in the hands of the 
lady who played Gltimdalca., queen of the giants, 
in Tom Thumb ; she is exactly of imperial dimen- 
sions ; and, provided she is well shaved, of a most 
interesting physiognomy : as she appears likewise 
to be a lady of some nerve, I dare engage she will 
read a letter about witches vanishing in air, and 
such common occurrences, without being unnatu- 
rally suiprised, to the aimoyance of honest '' Town." 

We are happy to observe that Mr. Cooper prof- 
its by the instructions of friend " Town," and does 
not dip the daggers in blood so deep as formerly 
by a matter of an incl^^r two.^ This was a vio- 
lent outrage upon our immortal bard. We differ 
with Mr. "Town" in his reading of the words " this 
is a sorry sight" We are of opinion the force of 
the sentence should be thrown on the word sigJdy 
because Macbeth having been, shortly before, 
most confoundedly humbugged with an aerial 
dagger, was in doubt whether the daggers actually 
in his hands were real, or whether they were not 
mere shadows, or as the old English may have 
termed it, syghtes (this, at any rate, will estab- 
lish our skill in new readings). Though we dif- 
fer in this respect from our neighbor " Town," yet 



THE ASSEMBLY. 17 

we heartily agree with him in censuring Mr. 
Cooper for omitting that passage so remarkable 
for " beauty of imagery," etc., beginning with 
" and pity like a naked new-born babe," etc. It 
is one of those passages of Shakespeare which 
should always be retained, for the purpose of show- 
ing how sometimes tliat great poet could talk like a 
buzzard ; or, to speak more plainly, like the famous 
mad poet, Nat Lee. 

As it is the first duty of a friend to advise, 
and as we profess and do actually feel a friend- 
ship for honest " Town," we warn him never, in 
his criticisms, to meddle with a lady's " petticoats," 
or to quote Nic Bottom. In the first instance he 
may " catch a tartar ;" and in the second, the ass's 
head may rise up in judgment against him ; and 
when it is once afloat there is no knowing where 
some unlucky hand may place it. We would not, 
for all the money in our pockets, see " Town " 
flourishing his critical quill under the auspices 
of an ass's head, like the great Franklin in his 
Montero Cap. 



NEW YORK ASSEMBLY. 

BY ANTHONY EVEKGREKN, GENT. 

THE assemblies this year have gained a great 
accession of beauty. Several brilliant stars 
have risen from the East and from the North, to 
brighten the firmament of fashion; among the 
number I have discovered another planet, which 



18 SALMAGUNDI. 

rivals even Venus in lustre, and I claim equal 
honor with Herschel for my discovery. I shall 
take some future opportunity to describe this 
planet, and the numerous statellites which revolve 
around it. 

At the last assembly the company began to 
make some show about eight, but the most fash- 
ionable delayed their appearance until nine — - 
nine being the number of the muses, and there- 
fore the best possible hour for beginning to ex- 
hibit the graces. (This is meant for a pretty 
play upon words, and I assure my readers that I 
think it veiy tolerable.) 

Poor Will Honeycomb, whose memory I 
bold in special consideration, even with his half 
century of experience, would have been puzzled 
to point out the humors of a lady by her prevail- 
ing colors ; for the '• rival queens" of fashion, Mrs. 
Toole and Madame Bouchard,^ appeared to 
have exhausted their wonderful inventions in the 
different disposition, variation, and combination 
of tints and shades. The philosopher who main- 
tained that black was white, and that, of course, 
there was no such color as white, might have 
given some color to his theory on this occasion, by 
the absence of poor forsaken white muslin. I was, 
however, much pleased to see that red maintained 
its ground against all other colors, because red is the 
color of Mr. Jefferson's ***** **^ Tom Paine's 
nose, and my slippers.^ 

1 Two fashionable milliners of rival celebrity in the city of 
New York. — Paris Ed. 
^ lu this instance, as well as on several other occasions, 8 



THE ASSEMBLY. 19 

Let the grumbling smellfungi of this world, 
who cultivate taste among books, cobwebs, and 
spiders, rail at the extravagance of the age ; for 
my part, 1 was delighted with the magic of the 
scene, and as the ladies tripped through the mazes 
ofthe dance, sparkling and glowing and dazzling, 
I, like the honest Chinese, thanked them heartily 
for the jewels and finery with which they loaded 
tbemselves, merely for the entertainment of by- 
stander's, and blessed my stars that I was a bach- 
elor. 

The gentlemen were considerably numerous, and 
being, as usual, eqnipt in their appropriate black 

little innocent pleasantry is indulged at Mr. Jefferson's ex- 
pense. The allusion made here is to the red velvet small 
clothes with which the President, in defiance of good taste, 
used to attire himself on levee days and other public occa- 
sions. — Paris Ed. 

In one of his splenetic moods in Virginia, John Randolph 
once vented his complaint of Jefferson, with an allusion to 
the old scandal. " I cannot live," said he, " in this miser- 
able undone countr}', where, as the Turks follow their sacred 
standard, which is a pair of Mahomet's green breeches, we 
are governed by the old red breeches of that prince of projec- 
tors, St. Thomas of Cantingbury; and surely, Becket him- 
self never had more pilgrims at his shrine, than the saint of 
Monticello." 

As for the proboscis of Paine, " I sha-U secure him to a 
nicety," said Jarvis, when he was about to take the bust of 
Paine, now in the New York Historical Society, " if I can 
get plaster enough for his carbuncled nose." Dr. Francis, M'ho 
relates the anecdote in one of the interesting historical sketches 
ivhich he has given to the public, also furnishes a couplet 
sung by the boys in the street : — 

" Tom Paine is come from far, from far ; 
His nose is like a blazins: star ! " 



20 SALMAGUXDI. 

uniform?, constituted a sable regiment, which con- 
tributed not a little to the brilliant gayety ot" the 
ball-room. I mu*t confess I am indebted for this 
remark to our friend the cockney. Mr. *Sbidlik- 
enstlash. or ' Sbidlikens. as he is called for short- 
ness. He is a fellow of infinite verbosity — 
stands ill high favor — with himself — and, like 
Caleb Quotem. is •• up to everything." I remem- 
ber when a comfortable, plump-looking citizen 
led into the room a fair damsel, who looked for 
all the world like the personification of a rainbow ; 
'Sbidlikens observed that it reminded him of a 
fable, which he had read somewhere, of the mar- 
riage of an honest, painstaking snail, who had 
once walked six feet in an hour for a wager, to a 
buttertfy whom he used to gallant by the elbow, 
with the aid of much puffing and exertion. On 
being called upon to tell where he had come 
across the story, 'Sbidlikens absolutely refused to 
answer. 

It would but be repeating an old story to say 
that the ladies of New York dance well — and 
well may they, since they learn it scientifically, 
and begin their lessons before they have quit 
their swaddling clothes. The immortal Duport 
has usurped despotic sway over all the female 
heads and heels in this city ; horn-books, primers, 
and pianos are neglected to attend to his posi- 
tions ; and poor Chilton, with his pots and 
kettles and chemical crockery, finds him a more 
potent enemy than the whole collective force of 
the ''North River Society." ^ 'Sbidlikens insists 
1 An imaginary association, the object of which was to set 



DANCING FRENCHMEN. 21 

that this dancing mania will inevitably continue 
as lono; as a dancino:-master will charcre the fash- 
ionable price of five-and-twenty dollars a quarter, 
and all other accomplishments are so vulgar as 
to be attainable at '* half the money ; " but I put 
no faith in 'Sbidiikens' candor in this particular. 
Among his infinitude of endowments, he is but a 
poor proficient in dancing ; and though he often 
flounders through a cotillon, yet he never cut a 
pigeon- wing in his life. 

In my mind there's no position more positive 
and unexceptionable than that most Frenchmen, 
dead or alive, are born dancers. I came pounce 
upon this discovery at the assembly, and I imme- 
diatelv noted it down in niv regrister of indispu- 
table facts ; the public i-hall know all about iL 
As [ nes'er dance cotillons, holding them to be 
monstrous distorters of the human frame, and 
tantamount in their operations to being broken 
and dislocated on the wheel, I generally take oc- 
casion, while they are soin^ on, to make mv re- 
marks on the company. In the course of these 
observations I was struck with the energy and 
eloquence of sundry limbs, which seemed to be 
flourishing about without appertaining to any- 
body. After much investigation and difficulty, I 
at length traced them to their respective owners, 
whom I found to be all Frenchmen to a man. 
Art may have meddled somewhat in these affairs, 
but nature certaiidy did more. I have since 

ihe North River (the Hudson) on tire. A number of young 
inen of son^e fashion, little talent, and great pretension, were 
ridiculed as members. — Paris Ed. 



22 SALMAGUNDI. 

been considerably employed in calculations on 
this subject ; and by tlie most accurate computa- 
tion I have determined that a Frenchman passe3 
at least three-fifths of liis time between the heav- 
ens and the earth, and partakes eminently of 
the nature of a gossamer or soap-bubble. One 
of these jack-o'-lantern hi^roes, in taking a figure, 
which neither Euclid nor P^-thagoras himself 
could demonstrate, unfortunately wound himself 
— I mean his feet — his better part — into a 
lady's cobweb muslin robe ; but perceiving it at 
the instant, he set himself a-spinning the other 
way, like a top, unraveled his step, without 
omitting one* angle or curve, and extricated him- 
self without breaking a Jhread of the lady's 
dress ! he then sprung up, like a sturgeon, 
crossed his feet four times, and fimshed this 
wonderful evolution by quivering his left leg, as 
a cat does her paw when she has accidentally 
dipped it in water. No man, '' of woman born," 
who was not a Frenchman, or a mountebank, 
could have done the like. 

Amonj; the new faces I remarked a blooming 
nymph, who lias brought a fresh supply of roses 
from the country to adoin the wreath of beauty, 
where lilies too much predominate. As I wish 
well to every sweet face under heaven, I sin- 
cerely hope her roses may survive the frosts and 
dissipations of winter, and lose nothing by a com- 
parison with the loveliest offerings of the spring. 
'Sbidlikens, to whom I made similar remarks, 
assured nn; ihat they were very just and very 
prettily exprest ; and that the lady in question 



AT SUPPER. 23 

was a prodigious fine piece of flesh and blood. 
Now, could I find it in my heart to baste these 
cockneys like their own roast beef — they can 
make no distinction between a fine woman and a 
fine horse. 

I would praise the sylph-like grace with which 
another young lady acquitted herself in the dance, 
but that she excels in far more valuable accom- 
plishments. Who praises the rose for its beauty, 
even though it is beautiful? 

The company retired at the customary hour to 
the supper-room, where the tables were laid out 
with their usual splendor and profusion. My 
friend, 'Sbidlikens, with the native forethought 
of a cockney, had carefully stowed his pocket 
with cheese and crackers, that he might not be 
tempted again to venture his limbs in the crowd 
of hungry fair ones who throng the supper-room 
door; his precaution was unnecessary, for the 
company entered the room with surprising order 
and decorum. No gowns were torn — no ladies 
fainted — no noses bled — nor was there any 
need of the interference of either managers or 
peace officers. 






NO. II.— WEDNESDAY, FEB. 4, 1807. 



FROM THE ELBOW-CHAIR OF LAUNCELOT LANG- 
STAFF, ESQUIRE. 



^^^^ N the conduct of an epic poem, it has 

been the custom, from lime immemora- 

^^ ble, for the poet occasionally to introduce 



his reader to an intimate acquaintance with the 
heroes of his story, by conducting him into their 
tents, and giving him an opportunity of observing 
them in their night-gown and slippers. However 
I despise the servile genius that would descend 
to follow a precedent, though furnished by Homer 
himself, and consider him as on a par with the 
cart that follows at the heels of the horse, with- 
out ever taking the lead, yet at the present mo- 
ment my whim is opposed to my opinion ; and 
whenever this is the case, my opinion generally 
surrenders at discretion. I am determined, there- 
fore, to give the town a peep into our divan ; and 
I shall repeat it as often as I please, to show that 
I intend to be sociable. 

Tlie other night Will Wizard and Evergreen 
called upon me, to pass away a few hours in 
social chat, and hold a kind of council of war. 
To give a zest to our evening, I uncorked a 
bottle of London Particular, which has 2:rown old 



WHAT THEY SAT OF US. 25 

with myself, and which never fails to excite a 
Bmile in the countenances of my old cronies, to 
whom alone it is devoted. After some little 
time the conversation turned on the effect pro- 
duced b^ our first number ; every one had his 
budget of information, and I assure ray readers 
that we laughed most unceremoniously at their 
expense ; they will excuse us for our merriment 
— 'tis a way we've got. Evergreen, who is 
equally a favorite and companion of young and 
old. was particularly satisfactory in his details ; 
and it was highly amusing to hear how different 
characters were tickled with different passages. 
The old folks were delighted to find there was 
a bias in our junto toward the '* good old times ;" 
and he particularly noticed a worthy old gentle- 
man of his acquaintance, who had been some- 
what a beau in his day, whose eyes brightened 
at the bare mention of Kissincr-bridge. It re- 
called [o his recollection several of his youthful 
exploits at that celebrated pass, on which he 
seemed to dwell with great pleasure and self- 
complacency ; he hoped, he said, that the biidge 
might be preserved for the benefit of posterity, 
and as a monument of the gallantry of their 
grandfathers, and even hinted at the expediency 
of erecting a toll-gate there, to collect the forfeits 
of the ladies. But the most flattering testimony 
of approbation which our work has received, 
was from an old lady who never laughed but 
once in her life, and that was at the conclusion of 
the last war. She was detected by friend An- 
tiiony in the very fact of laughing most obstrep- 



36 SALMAGrXDL 

erously at the description of the little danr»«no 
Frenchman. Now it glads mv very lieart to 
find our effusion? have such a pleasing effect. I 
venerate the aged, and joy whenever it is in my 
power to scatter a few flowers in their path. 

The young people were particularly interested 
ill the account of the assembly. There was 
some difference of opinion respecting the new 
planet, and the blooming nymph from the coun- 
try ; but as to the compliment paid to the fasci- 
nating little sylph who danced so gracefully, 
every lady modestly took that to herself. 

Evergreen mentioned also that the young 
ladies were extremely anxious to learn the true 
mode of managing their beaux ; and Miss Diana 
Wearwell, who is as chaste as an icicle, has 
seen a few superfluous winters pass over her head, 
and boasts of having slain her thousands, wished 
to know ho^ old maids were to do without hus- 
b.'»-nds ; not that she was very curious about the 
matter, she '* only asked for information." Sev- 
eral ladies expressed their earnest desire that we 
would not spare those wooden gentlemen who 
perforoi the parts of mutes, or stalking horses, in 
their drawinir rooms : and tlieir mothers were 
equally anxious that we would show no quarter 
to th<»e lads of spirit, who now and then cut 
their bottles to enliven a tea-party with the hu- 
mor? of the dinner-table. 

Will Wizard was not a little chasrrined at 
havinjr been mistaken for a srentleman, " who ia 
no more like me." said Will. *• than I like Her- 
cules." " I wa< well assured. " continued Will, 



DISG-DOSG. 27 

" that as our characters were drawn from nature, 
the orio-inab would be found in every society. 
And so it has happened — ererj h"ttle circle has 
its 'Sbidlikens ; and the cockney, intended merely 
as the representative of his species, has dwindled 
into an insignificant individual, who havincr recoor- 
nize<l his own likeness, has f(X>lishly appropriated 
to himself a picture for which he never sat. 
Such, too, has been the case with Ding-dong, 
who has kindly undertaken to be my represen- 
tative ; not that I care much about the raaiter, for 
it must be acknowledged that the animal is a 
good-natured animal enough, — and what is more, 
a fashionable animal, — and this is saying more 
than to call him a conjurer. But I am much 
mistaken if he can claim any affinity to the Wiz- 
ard family. Surely everybody knows Ding-dong, 
the gentle Ding-dong, who pervades all space, 
who is here and there and everywhere ; no tea- 
party can be complete without Ding-dong, and 
his appearance is sure to occasion a smile. Ding- 
dong has been the occasion of much wit in 
his day ; I have even seen many puny whip- 
sters attempt to be dull at his expense, who were 
as much interior to liim as the gad-fly is to the 
ox that he buzzes about. Does any witling 
want to distress the company with a miserable 
pun ? — nobofly's name presents sooner than 
Ding-dong's ; and it has been played upon with 
equal skill and equal entertainment to the by- 
standers as Trinity-bells. Ding-dong is pro- 
foundly devoted to the ladies, and highly en- 
titled to their regard ; for I know no man who 



28 ^ SALMAGUNDI. 

makes a better bow, or talks less to the purpose 
than Ding-dong. Diug-dong has acquired a pro- 
digious fuud- of knowledge bj reading Dilworth 
when a boy ; and the other day, on being asked 
who was the author of Macbeth, answered, with- 
out the least he:?iiatiou, Shakespeare ! Ding- 
dong has a quotation for every day of the year, 
and every hour of the day. and every minute of 
the hour; but he often commits petty larcenies oa 
the poets — plucks the gray hairs of old Chau- 
cer's head, and claps them on the chin of Pope ; 
and filches Johnson's wig to cover the bald pate 
of Homer ; but his blunders pass undetected by 
one-half of his hearers. Ding-dong, it is true, 
though he has long wrangled at our bar, cannot 
boast much of his legal knowledge, nor does his 
forensic eloquence entitle him to rank with a 
Cicero or a Demosthenes ; but bating his pro- 
fessional deficiencies, he is a man of most delec- 
table discourse, and can hold forth for an hour 
upon the color of a ribbon or the construction of 
a work-bag. Ding-4^ioug is now in his fortieth 
year, or perhaps a little more — rivals all the 
little beaux in the town, in his attentions to the 
ladies — is in a state of rapid improvement ; and 
there is no doubt that by the time he arrives at 
years of discretion, he will be a very accom- 
plished, agreeable young fellow."' 1 advise all 
clever, good-for-nothing, •* learned and authentic 
gentlemen," to take Ciire how they wear this cap, 
however well it fits ; and to bear in mind, that 
our characters are not individuals, but species ; 
if, after this warning, any person chooses to rep- 



THE WIZARD FAMILY. 29 

resent Mr. Ding-dong, the sin is at his own door ; 
we wash our hands of it. 

We all sympathized with Wizard, that he 
should h)e mistaken for a person so very different ; 
and T hereby assure my readers, that William 
Wizard is no other person in the whole world 
but William Wizard ; so I beg I may hear uc 
more cr>njectures on the subject. Will is, in fact, 
a wiseacre by inheritance. The Wizard family 
has Ions: been celebrated for knowins more than 
their neighbors, particularly concerning their 
neighbor's affiiirs. Tbev were anciently called 
Josselin ; but Will's great-uncle, by the father's 
side, having been accidentally burnt for a witch ir. 
Connecticut, in consequence of blowing up his 
own house in a philosophical experiment, the 
family, in order to perpetuate the recollection of 
this memorable circumstance, assumed the name 
and arms of Wizard, and have borne them ever 
since. 

In the course of my customary morning's walk 
I stopped in a bookstore, which is noted for be- 
ing the favorite haunt of a number of literati, 
some of whom rank high in the opinion of the 
world, and others rank equally high in their own. 
Here I found a knot of queer fellows listening to 
one of their company, who was reading our 
paper ; I particularly noticed Mr. Ichabod Fungus 
among the number. 

Fungus is one of those fidoretinor, meddling 
quidnuncs with which this unhappy city is pes- 
tered — one of our - Q in a corner fellows," who 
speaks volumes in a wink, conveys most porten- 



30 SALMAGUNDI. 

tons information by laying his finger beside his 
nose, and is always smelling a rat in the most 
triflino; occurrence. He listened to our work 
with the most frigid gravity — every now and 
then gave a mysterious shrug, a humph, or a 
screw of the mouth ; and on being asked his 
opinion at the conclusion, said, he did not know 
what to think of it; he hoped it did not mean 
anything against the government, that no lurking 
treason was couched in all this talk. These 
were dangerous times — times of plot and con- 
spiracy ; he did not at all like those stars after 
Mr. Jefferson's name — they had an air of con- 
cealment. Dick Paddle, whe was one of tho 
group, undertook our cause. Dick is known to 
the world as being a most knowing genius, who 
can see as far as anybody — into a millstone, 
maintains, in the teeth of all argument, that a 
spade is a spade ; and will labor a good half hour 
by St. Paul's clock to establish a self-evident fact. 
Dick assured old Fungus that those stars merely 
stood for JNIr. Jefferson's red what-d'ye call-ems^ 
and that, so far from a conspiracy against their 
peace and prosperity, the authors, whom he knew 
very well, were only expressing their high re- 
spect for them. The old man shook his head, 
shrugged his shoulders, gave a mysterious Lord 
Burleigh nod, said he hoped it might be so ; but 
he was by no means satisfied with this attack 
upon the President's breeches, as " thereby hangs 
a tale." 



MUSICAL. 31 

MR. WILSON'S CONCERT. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

IN my register of indisputable facts 1 have 
noted it conspicuously, that all modern music 
is but mere dregs and draining of the ancient, and 
that all the spirit and vigor of harmony has en- 
tirely evaporated in the lapse of ages. O ! for 
the chant of the Naiades and Dryades, the shell of 
the Tritons, and the sweet warblings of the Mer- 
maids of ancient days ! Where now shall we seek 
the Amphion, who built walls with a turn of his 
hurdy-gurdy, the Orpheus who made stones to 
whistle about his ears, and trees hop in a country 
dance, by the mere quavering of his fiddle-stick ! 
Ah ! had I the power of the former, how soon 
would I build up the new City Hall,-'^ and save 
the cash and credit of the Corporation ; and how 
much sooner would I build myself a snug house 
in Broadway — nor would it be the first time a 
house has been obtained there for a song. In my 
opinion, the Scotch bagpipe is the only instrument 
that rivals the ancient lyre, and I am surprised it 
should be almost the only one entirely excluded 
from our concerts. 

Taking of concerts reminds me of that given 
a few nights since by Mr. AVilson, at which 1 
had the misfortune of being present. It was at- 
tended by a numerous company, and gave great 
Batisfaction, if I may be allowed to judge from 

1 This edifice, the corner-stone of which was laid by Mayoi 
Edward Livingston in 18U;{, was not finished till 1812. 



32 SALMAGUNDI. 

the frequent gapings of the audience ; though I 
will not risk my credit as a connoisseur by saying 
whether they proceeded from wonder or a violent 
inclination to doze. I was delighted to find in 
the mazes of the crowd my particular friend 
'Sbidlikens, who had put on liis cognoscenti phiz 
— he being, according to his own account, a pro- 
found adept in the science of music. He can tell a 
crotchet at first sight ; and, like a true English- 
man, is delighted with the plum-pudding rotundity 
of a semibref ; and, in short, boasts of having in- 
continently climbed up PaflTs musical tree,-^ which 
hangs every day upon the poplar, from the fun- 
damental concord to the fundamental major dis- 
cord ; and so on from branch to branch, until he 
reached the very top, where he sung " Rule Bri- 
tannia," clappe^*! his wings, and then — came 
down again. Like all true transfttlantic judges, 
he suffers most horribly at our musical entertain- 
ments, and assures me that what with the con- 
founded scraping and scratching and grating of 
our fiddlers, he thinks the sitting out one of oui 
concerts tantamount to the punishment of that 
unfortunate saint who was fi'ittered in two with a 
handsaw. 

The concert was given in the tea-room at the 
City Hotel ; an apartment admirably calculated, 
by its dingy walls, beautifully marbled with smoke, 
to show off the dresses and complexions of the 
ladies ; and by the flatness of its ceiling to repress 
those impertinent reverberations of the music, 

1 An emblematical device, suspended from a poplar in front 
of the shop of Paff, a music-seller in Broadway. — Paris Ed. 



A CONCERT. 38 

which, whatever others may foolishly assert, are, 
as 'Sbidlikens says, " no better than repetitions 
of old stories." 

Mr. Wilson gave me infinite satisfaction by the 
gentility of his demeanor, and the roguish looks 
he now and then cast at the ladies, but we fear 
liis excessive modesty threw him into some little 
confusion, for he al)Solutely forgot himself, and in 
the whole course of his entrances and exits, never 
once made his bow to the audience. On the 
whole, however, 1 think he has a fine voice, sings 
with great taste, and is a very modest, good-look- 
ing little man ; but I beg leave to repeat the ad- 
vice so often given by the illustrious tenants of 
the theatrical sky-parlor, to the gentlemen who 
are charged with the " nice conduct " of chairs 
and tables — " make a bow, Johnny — Johnny, 
make a bow ! " 

I cannot, on this occasion, but express ray sur- 
prise that certain amateurs should be so frequently 
at concerts, considering what agonies they suffer 
while a piece of music is playing. I defy any 
man of common humanity, and who has not the 
heart of a Choctaw, to contemplate the counte- 
nance of one of these unhappy victims of a fiddle- 
stick without feeling a sentiment of compassion. 
His whole visage is distorted : he rolls up his 
eyes, as M'Sycophunt says, " like a duck in thun- 
der," and the music seems to operate upon him 
like a fit of the colic ; his very bowels seem to 
sympathize at every twang of the catgut, as if 
he heard at that moment the wailings of the help- 
less animal that had been sacrificed to harmony. 



34 SALMAGUNDI. 

Nor does the hero of the orchestra seem less af- 
fected ; as soon as the signal is given, he seizes 
his fiddle-stick, makes a most horrible grimace, 
scowls fiercely upon his music-book, as though he 
would grin every crotchet and quaver out of 
countenance. I have sometimes particularly no- 
ticed a hungry-looking Gaul, who torments a huge 
bass viol, and who is doubtless the original of the 
famous " Raw-head-and-bloody-bones," so potent 
in frightening naughty children. 

The person who played the French horn was 
very excellent in his way. but 'Sbidlikens could 
not relish his performance, having some time since 
heard a gentleman amateur in Gotham play a 
solo on his proboscis, in a style infinitely superior 
Snout, the bellows-mender, never turned his wind 
instrument more musically ; nor did the cele- 
brated *: knight of the burning lamp," ever yield 
more exquisite entertainment with his nose ; this 
ijenileman had latterlv ceased to exhibit this 
prodigious accomplishment, having, it was whis- 
pered, hired out liis snout to a ferryman, who had 
lost his conchshell ; the consequence was that 
he did not show his nose in company so frequently 
as before. 



SITTING late the other evening in my elbow- 
chair, indulging in that kind of indolent medi- 
tation, which I consider the perfection of human 
bliss, I was aroused from my revery by the en- 
trance of an old servant in tiie Cockloft livery, 



THE COLKLOFT HUMORS. 3d 

who handed me a letter, containing the following 
address from ray cousin and old college chum, 
Pindar Cockloft. 

Honesi Andrew, as he delivered it, informed 
me that his master, who resides a little way from 
town, on reading a small pamphlet in a neat yel- 
low cover,^ rubbed his hands with symptoms of 
great satisfaction, called for his favorite Chinese 
inkstand, with two sprawling Mandarins for its 
supporters, and wrote the letter which he had 
the honor to present me. 

As I foresee my cousin will one day become 
a great favorite with the public, and as I know 
him to be somewhat punctilious as it respects 
etiquette. I shall take this opportunity to gratify 
the old gentleman, by giving him a proper in- 
troduction to the fashionable world. The Cock- 
loft family, to which I have the comfort of being 
related, has been fruitful in old bachelors and 
humorists, as will be perceived when I come to 
treat more of its history. My cousin Pindar is 
one of its mo«t conspicuous members — he is now 
in his fifty-eighth year — is a bachelor, partly 
through choice, and partly through chance, and 
an oddity of the first water. Half his life has 
been employed in writing odes, sonnets, epigrams, 
and elegies, which he seldom shows to anybody 
but ray j elf after they are written ; and all the 
"lid chests, drawers, and cliair-bottoras in the house, 
teem with his productions. 

In his vounirer davs he ficnired as a dashing 

1 The numbers of Salmagundi were originallr published 
>a this lorci. 



36 SALMAGUNDI. 

blade in the great world ; and no young fellow 
of the town wore a longer pig-tail, or carried 
more buckram in his skirts. From sixteen to 
thirty he was continually in love, and during that 
period, to use his own words, he be-scribbled 
more paper than would serve the theatre for 
snow-storms a whole season. The evening of his 
thirtieth birthday, as lie sat by the fire-side, as 
much in love as ever was man in this world, and 
writing the name of his mistress in the ashes, 
with an old tongs that had lost one of its legs, he 
was seiijed with a whim-wham that he was an 
old fool to be in love at his time of life. It was 
ever one of the Cockloft characteristics to strike 
to whim : and had Pindar stood out on this occa- 
sion he would have brought the reputation of his 
mother in question. From that time he gave up 
all particular attentions to the ladies ; and though 
he still loves their company, he has never been 
known to exceed the bounds of common courtesy 
in his intercourse with them. He was the life 
and ornament of our family circle in town, until 
the epoch of the French Revolution, which sent 
so many unfortunate dancing-masters from their 
country to polish and enlighten our hemisphere. 
This was a sad time for Pindar, who had taken 
a genuine Cockloft prejudice against everything 
French, ever since he was brought to death's 
door by a ragout : he groaned at Ca Ira, and the 
Marseilles Hymn had much the same effect upon 
him, that sharpening a knife on a dry whetstone 
has upon some people — it set his teeth chatter- 
mg. He might in time have been reconciled tc 



C CKL OF T HA LL. 87 

these rubs, had not the introduction of French 
cockades on the hats of our citizens absolutely 
thrown him into a fever. The first time he saw 
an instance of this kind, he came home with 
great precipitation, packed up his trunk, his old- 
fashioned writing-desk, and liis Chinese ink-stand, 
and made a kind of crowline retreat to Cockloft 
Hall,^ where he has resided ever since. 

My cousin Pindar is of a mercurial disposition 
— a humorist without ill-nature — he is of the 
true gunpowder temper ; one flash, and all is 
over. It is true when the wind is easterly, or 
the gout gives him a gentle twinge, or he hears 
of any new successes of the French, he will 
become a little splenetic ; and heaven help the 
man, and more particularly the woman, that 
crosses his humor at that moment — she is sure 
to receive no quarter. These are the most sub- 
lime moments of Pindar. I swear to you, dear 
ladies and gentlemen, I would not lose one of 

1 Cockloft Hall had its origin in a favorite resort of Irving 
and his companions, in an old country house, once the resi- 
dence of the Kembles, on the Passaic, near Ne\yark. It was 
then known, says the writer of a pleasant reminiscence in the 
Newark Advertiser, as the " Gouvorneur Place," from which 
family it had descended to Mr. Gouveriieur Kemble; but dur- 
ing most of the time referred to it was not inhabited by the 
family, but was in charge of a respectable couple, who kept 
it in order, and acted as host and hostess to Irving, Paulding, 
and the three or four others, constiruting their coterie." Mr. 
Irving, in a letter to the New Jersey Historical Society, re- 
ferring to these visits, remarked, " With Newark are asso- 
ciated in my mind many pleasant recollections of early days, 
and of social meetings at au old mansion on the banks of the 
Passaic." 



38 SALMAGUNDI. 

these splenetic bursts for the best wig in my 
wardrobe ; even though it were proved to be the 
identical wig worn by the sage Linkum Fidelius, 
when he demonstrated before the whole University 
of Leyden, that it was possible to make bricks 
without straw. I have seen the old gentleman 
blaze forth such a volcanic explosion of wit, 
ridicule, and satire, that I was almost tempted to 
believe him inspired. But these sallies only 
lasted for a moment, and passed like summer 
clouds over the benevolent sunshine which ever 
warmed his heart and lighted up his countenance. 

Time, tliough it has dealt roughly with his 
person, has passed lightly over the graces of his 
mind, and left him in full possession of all the 
sensibilities of youth. His eye kindles at the 
relation of a noble and generous action, his heart 
melts at the story of distress, and he is still a 
warm admirer of the fair. Like all old bachelors, 
however, he looks back with a fond and lingering 
eye on the period of his boyhood ; and would 
sooner suffer the pangs of matrimony than ac- 
knowledge that the world, or anything in it, is 
half so clever as it was in those good old times 
that are " gone by." 

I believe I have already mentioned, that with 
all his good qualities he is a humorist, and a 
humorist of the highest order. He has some of 
the most intolerable whim-whams I ever met 
with in my life, and his oddities are sufficient to 
eke out a hundred tolerable originals. But I 
will not eidarge on them — enough has been told 
to excite a desire to know more ; and I am much 



A POETICAL EPISTLE. - 39 

mistaken if, in the course of half a dozen of our 
numbers, he don't tickle, plague, please, and 
perplex the whole town, and completely establish 
his claim to the laureateship he has solicited, and 
with which we hereby invest him, recommending 
him and his efiusions to public reverence and 
respect. Launcelot Langstaff. 



D 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 
EAR LAUNCE, 



As I find you have taken the quill, 
To put our gay town and its fair under drill, 
I offer my hopes for success to your cause. 
And send you unvarnish'd my mite of applause. 
Ah, Launce, this poor town has been wofully 
fash'd ; 
Has long been be-Frenchman'd, be-cockney'd, be- 

trash'd. 
And our ladies bedeviFd, bewilder'd astray, 
From the rules of their grandames have wan- 
dered away. 
No longer that modest demeanor we meet, 
Which whilom the eye*3 of our fathers did greet ; 
No longer be-mobbled, be-ruffled, be-quilled, 
Be-powder'd, be-hooded, be-patch'd, and be- 

frilt'd. 
No longer our fair ones their grograms display. 
And stiff in brocade, strut " like castles " away. 



iO SALMAGUNDI. 

O, how fondly my soul forms departed have 

traced, 
Wheu our ladies in stays, and in bodice well 

laced, 
When bishop'd, and cushioned, and hoop*d to the 

chin, 
Well calash'd without, and well bolster'd within ; 
All cased in their buckrams, from crown down 

to tail, 
Like O'Brallaghan's mistress, were shaped like a 

pail. 
Well — peace to those fashions — the joy of 

our eyes — 
Tempora mutantur, new follies will rise ; 
Yet, " like joys that are past," they still crowd 

on the mind. 
In moments of thought, as the soul looks behind. 
Sweet days of our boyhood, gone by, my dear 

Launce, 
Like the shadows of night, or the forms in a 

trance ; 
Yet oft we retrace those bright visions again, 
Nos mutamur, 'tis true — but those visions re- 
main. 
I recall with delight, how my bosom would creep, 
When some delicate foot from its chamber would 

peep; 
And when I a neat stocking'd ankle could spy, 
By the sages of old I was rapt to the sky ! 
All then was retiring, was modest, discreet ; 
The beauties, all shrouded, were left to conceit — 
To the visions which fancy would form in her 

eye, 



A POETICAL EPISTLE. 41 

Of graces that snug in soft ambush would lie ; 
And the heart, like the poets, in thought would 

pursue 
The elysium of bliss which was veiled from its 

view. 
We are old-fashion'd fellows, our nieces will 

say: 
Old-fashioned, indeed, coz — and swear it they 

may — 
For I freely confess that it yields me no pride. 
To see them all blaze what their mothers would 

hide : 
To see them, all shivering, some cold winter's 

day, 
So lavish their beauties and graces display, 
And give to each fopling that offers his hand, 
Like Moses from Pisgah — > a peep at the land. 
But a truce with complaining — the object in 

view 
Is to offer my help in the work you pursue; 
And as your effusions and labors sublime. 
May need, now and then, a few touches of 

rhyme, 
I humbly solicit, as cousin and friend, 
A quiddity, quirk, or remonstrance to send : 
Or should you a laureate want in your plan, 
By the muff of my grandmother, I am your 

man ! 
You must know I have got a poetical mill, 
Which with odd lines, and couplets, and triplets 

I fill; 
And a poem I grind, as from rags white and blue 
The paper-mill yields you a sheet fair and new. 



42 SALMAGUNDI. 

I can grind down an ode, or an epic that's long, 

Into sonnet, acrostic, conundrum, or song: 

As to dull hudibrastic, so boasted of late, 

The doggrel discharge of some muddle-brain'd 

pate, 
I can grind it by wholesale — and give it its 

point, 
With billingsgate dished up in rhymes out of 

joint. 
1 have read all the poets, and got them by 

heart ; 
Can slit them, and twist them, and take them 

apart ; 
Can cook up an ode out of patches and shreds, 
To muddle my readers and bother their heads. 
Old Homer, and Virgil, and Ovid I scan, 
Anacreon, and Sappho, who changed to a swan ; 
I ambics and sapphics I grind at my will. 
And with duties of love every noddle can fill. 
O, 'twould do your heart good, Launce, to 

see my mill grind 
Old stuff into verses and poems refin'd : — 
Dan Spenser, Dan Chaucer, those poets of old. 
Though covered with dust, are yet true sterling 

gold^ 
I can grind off their tarnish, and bring them to 

view, 
New-modell'd, new-mill'd, and improved in their 

hue. 
But I promise no more — only give me the 

place, 
And I'll warrant I'll fill it with credit and grace ; 



AN ADVERTISEMENT. 43 

By the living ! I'll figure and cut you a dash — 
A.S bold as. Will Wizard, or 'Sbidlikensflash ! 

Pindar Cockloft. 



ADVERTISEMENT. 



PERHAPS the most fruitful source of mor- 
tification to a merry writer, who, for the 
amusement of himself and the public, employs 
his leisure in sketching odd characters from im- 
agination, is, that he cannot flourish his pen but 
every Jack-pudding imagines it is pointed directly 
at himself; he cannot, in his gambols, throw a 
fool's cap among the crowd, but every queer fel- 
low insists upon putting it on his own head ; or 
chalk an outlandish figure, but every outlandish 
genius is eager to write his own name under it. 
However we may be mortified, that these men 
should each individually think himself of sufficient 
consequence to engage our attention, we should 
not care a rush about it, if they did not get into 
a passion, and complain of having been ill used. 

It is not in our hearts to hurt the feelings of 
one single mortal by holding him up to public 
ridicule ; and if it were, we lay it down as one 
of our indisputable facts, that no man can be 
made ridiculous but by his own folly. As, how- 
ever, we are aware that when a man by chance 
gets a thwack in the crowd, he is apt to suppose 
the blow w^as intended exclusively for himself, 



44 SALMAGUNDI. 

and so fall into unreasonable anger, we have de- 
termined to let these crusty gentry know what 
kind of satisfaction they are to expect from us. 
We are resolved not to fight, for three special 
reasons : first, because fighting is at all events 
extremely troublesome and inconvenient, particu- 
larly at this season of the year ; second, because 
if either of us should happen to be killed, it 
would be a great loss to the public, and rob them 
of many a good laugh we have in store for their 
amusement ; and third, because if we should 
chance to kill our adversary, as is most likely, 
for we can every one of us split balls upon razors 
and snuff candles, it would be a loss to our pub- 
lisher, by depriving him of a good customer. If 
any gentleman casuist will give three as good 
reasons for fighting, we promise him a complete 
set of Salmagundi for nothing. 

But though we do not fight in our own proper 
persons, let it not be supposed that we will not 
give ample satisfaction to all those who may 
choose to demand it, for this would be a mis- 
take of the first magnitude, and lead very valiant 
gentlemen perhaps into what is called a quan- 
dary. It would be a thousand and one pities 
that any honest man, after taking to himself the 
cap and bells which we merely offered to his 
acceptance, should not bave the privilege of 
being cudgeled into the bargain. We pride 
ourselves upon giving satisfaction in every de- 
partment of our paper ; and to fill that of fight- 
ing, have engaged two of those strapping heroes 
of the theatre, who figure in the retinues of our 



PROFFER OF SATISFACTION. 



45 



gingerbread kings and queens ; now hurry an 
old stuff petticoat on their backs, and strut sena- 
tors of Rome, or aldermen of London ; and now 
be-wliisker their muffin faces with burnt cork, 
and swagger right valiant warriors, armed cap a- 
pie, in buckram. Should, therefore, any great 
little man about town take offense at our good- 
natured villainy, though we intend to offend no- 
body under heaven, he will please to apply at 
any hour after twelve o'clock, as our champions 
will then be off duty at the theatre and ready for 
anything. They have promised to fight " with 
or without balls ; " to give two tweaks of the 
nose for one ; to submit to be kicked, and to 
cudgel their applicant most heartily in return ; 
this being what we understand by '' the satisfao- 
tion of a gentleman." 




NO. III. — FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 13, 1807 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 



S I delight in everything novel and 

eccentric, and would at any time give 

I an old coat for a new idea, I am par- 




ticularly attentive to the manners and conversa- 
tion of strangers, and scarcely ever a traveller 
enters this city whose appearance promises any- 
thing original, but by some means or another I 
form an acquaintance with him. I must confess 
I often suffer manifold afflictions from the intima- 
cies thus contracted : my curiosity is frequently 
punished by the stupid details of a blockhead, or 
the shallow verbosity of a coxcomb. Now, I 
would prefer at any time to travel with an ox- 
team through a Carolina sand-flat, ^ther than 
plod through a heavy, unmeaning conversation 
with the former; and as to the latter, I would 
sooner hold sweet converse with the wheel of a 
knife-grinder than endure his monotonous chat- 
tering. In fact, the strangers who flock to this 
most pleasant of all earthly cities are generally 
mere birds of passage, whose plumage is often 
gay enough, I own, but their notes, " heaven 
save the mark," are as unmusical as those of 
that classic night-bird which the ancients humor- 



TICKLING A COCKNEY. 47 

Dusly selected aKS the emblem of wisdom. Those 
from the South, it is true, entertain me with 
their horses, equipages, and puns ; and it is ex- 
cessively pleasant to hear a couple of these four^ 
in-hand gentlemen detail their exploits over a 
bottle. Those from the East have often induced 
me to doubt the existence of the wise men of 
yore, who are said to have flourished in that 
quarter ; and as for those from parts beyond seas 
— 01 my masters, ye shall hear more from me 
anon. Heaven help this unhappy town ! hath 
it not goslings enow of its own hatching and 
rearing, that it must be overwhelmed by such an 
inundation of ganders from other climes? I 
would not have any of my courteous and gentle 
readers suppose that I am running a muck, full 
tilt, cut and slash, upon all foreigners indiscrimi- 
nately. I have no national antipathies, though 
related to the Cockloft family. As to honest 
John Bull, I shake him heartily by the hand, 
assuring him that I love his jolly countenance, 
and, moreover. Mm lineally descended from him; 
in proof of which I allege my invincible predi- 
lection for roast beef and pudding. 1 therefore 
look upon all his children as my kinsmen ; and I 
beg, when I tickle a cockney, I may not be under- 
stood as trimming an Englishman; — they being 
very distinct animals, as I shall clearly demon- 
strate in a future number. If any one wishes 
(o know my opinion of the Irish and Scotch, he 
may find it in the characters of those two nations, 
drawn by the first advocate of the age. But the 
t'rcnch, I must i-onfess, are my favorites ; and I 



48 SALMAGUNDI. 

have taken more pains to argue my cousin Pin- 
dar out of his antipathy to them than I ever 
did about any other thing. When, therefore, I 
choose to hunt a Monsieur for my own particular 
amusement, I beg it may not be asserted that I 
intend him as a representative of his countrymen 
at large. Far from this ; I love the nation, as 
being a nation of right merry fellows, possessing 
the true secret of being happy ; which is nothing 
more than thinking of nothing, talking about 
anything, and laughing at everything. I mean 
only to tune up those little thingimys, who repre- 
sent nobody but themselves ; who have no na- 
tional trait about them but their language, and 
who hop about our town in swarms, like little 
toads after a shower. 

Among the few strangers whose acquaintance 
has entertained me, I particularly rank the mag- 
nanimous Mustapha Rub-a-dub Keli Khan, a 
most illustrious captain of a ketch, who figured, 
some time since, in our fashionable circles, at the 
head of a ragged regiment of Tripolitan prison- 
ers.^ His conversation was to me a perpetual 
feast; I chuckled with inward pleasure at his 
whimsical mistakes and unaffected observations 
on men and manners, and I rolled each odd con- 
ceit " like a sweet morsel under my tongue." 

Whether Mustapha was captivated by my 

1 Several Tripolitan prisoners, taken by an American 
squadron, in an action off Tripoli, were brought to New 
York, wliere they lived at large, objects of the curiosity and 
hospitality of the inhabitants, until an opportunity presentp<1 
to restore thorn to their own country. — Pm-is Ed. 



LETTER OF MU STAPH A. 49 

iron-bound physiogncmy, or flattered by tlie 
attentions which I paid him, I won't determine ; 
but I so far gained liis confidence, that, at his 
departure, he presented me with a bundle of 
papers, containing, among other articles, several 
copies of letters, which he had written to his 
friends at Tripoli. The following is a transla- 
tion of one of them. The original is in Arabic- 
Greek ; but by the assistance of Will Wizard, 
who understands all languages, not excepting 
that manufactured by Psalmanazar, I have been 
enabled to accomplish a tolerable translation. 
We should have found little difficulty in render- 
ing it into English, had it not been for Musta- 
pha's confounded pot-hooks and trammels. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELl 
KHAN, 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAIj 

SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW 

OF TRIPOLI. 

THOU wilt learn from this letter, most illus- 
trious disciple of Mahomet, that I have for 
some time resided in New York ; the most 
polished, vast, and magnificent city of the United 
States of America. But what to me are its de- 
lights ! I wander a captive through its splendid 
streets, I turn a heavy eye on every rising day 
that beholds me banished from my country. The 
Christian husbands here lament most bitterly any 



50 SALMAGUNDI. 

short absence from home, though they leave but 
one wife behind to lament their departure ; what 
then must be the feelings of thy unhappy kins- 
man, while thus lingering at an immeasurable 
distance from three-and-twenty of the most lovely 
and obedient wives in all Tripoli ! Allah ! 
shall thy servant never again return to his native 
land, nor behold his beloved wives, who beam on 
his memory beautiful as the rosy morn of the 
east, and graceful as Mahomet's camel ! 

Yet beautiful, O most puissant slave-driver, 
as are my wives, they are far exceeded by the 
women of this country. Even those who run 
about the streets with bare arms and necks (et 
cetera), whose habiliments are too scanty to 
protect them from the inclemency of the seasons, 
or the scrutinizing glances of the curious, and 
who it would seem belong to nobody, are lovely 
as the houris that people the elysium of true 
believers. If then, such as run wild in the high- 
ways, and whom no one cares to appropriate, are 
thus beauteous, what must be the charms of those 
who are shut up in the seraglios, and never per- 
mitted to go abroad ! surely the region of beauty, 
the Valley of the Graces, can contain nothing so 
inimitably fair ! 

But, notwithstanding the charms of these 
infidel women, they are apt to have one fault, 
which is extremely troublesome and inconvenient. 
Wouldst thou believe it, Asem, I have been 
positively assured by a famous dervise, or doctor, 
as he is here called, that at least one-fifth part 
of them — have souls ! Incredible as it may 



NEW YORK LADIES, 51 

seem to thee, I am the more inclined to believe 
them in possession of this monstrous superfluity^ 
from my own little experience, and from the in- 
formation which I have derived from others. In 
walking the streets I have actually seen an ex- 
ceedingly good-looking woman, with soul enough 
to box her husband's ears to his heart's content, 
and my very whiskers trembled with indignation 
at the abject state of these wretched infidels. I 
am told, moreover, that some of the women have 
soul enough to usurp the breeches of the men, 
but these I suppose are married and kept close ; 
for I have not, in my rambles, met with any so 
extravagantly accoutred : others, I am informed, 
have soul enough to swear ! — yea ! by the beard 
of the great Omar, who prayed three times to 
each of the one hundred and twenty-four thou- 
sand prophets of our most holy faith, and who 
never swore but once in his life — they actually 
swear ! 

Get thee to the mosque, good Asem ! return 
thanks to our most holy prophet, that he has 
been thus mindful of the comfort of all true 
Mussulmans, and has given them wives with no 
more souls than cats and dogs, and other neces- 
sary animals of the household. 

Thou wilt doubtless be anxious to learn our 
reception in this country, and how we were 
treated by a people whom we have been accus- 
tomed to consider as unenlightened barbarians. 

On landing we were waited upon to our lodg- 
ings, I suppose according to the directions of the 
municipality, by a vast and respectable escort 



52 SALMAGUNDI. 

of boys and negroes, who shouted and threw up 
their hats, doubtless to do honor to the magnani- 
mous Mustapha, captain of a ketch ; they were 
somewhat ragged and dirty in their equipments, 
but this we attributed to their republican simplic- 
ity. One of them, in the zeal of admiration, threw 
an old shoe, which gave thy friend rather an un- 
gentle salutation on one side of the head, whereat 
I was not a little offended, until the interpreter 
informed us that this was the customary manner 
in which great men were honored in this coun- 
try ; and that the more distinguished they were, 
the more they were subjected to the attacks and 
peltings of the mob. Upon this I bowed my 
head three • times, with my hands to my turban, 
and made a speech in Arabic-Greek, which gave 
great satisfaction, and occasioned a shower of old 
shoes, hats, and so forth, that was exceedingly 
refreshing to us all. 

Thou wilt not as yet expect that I should give 
thee an account of the laws and politics of this 
country. I will reserve them for some future 
letter, when I shall be more experienced in their 
complicated and seemingly contradictory nature. 

This empire is governed by a grand and most 
puissant bashaw, whom they dignify with the 
title of president. He is chosen by persons, who 
are chosen by an assembly, elected by the people 
■ — hence the mob is called the sovereign people 
— and the country, free ; the body politic doubt- 
less resembling a vessel, which is best governed by 
its tail. The present bashaw is a very plain old 
gentleman — something they say of a humorist. 



THE GRAND BASHAW. 53 

as he amuses himself with impaling butterflies 
and pickling tadpoles ; he is rather declining in 
popularity, having given great offense by wearing 
red breeches and tying his horse to a post. ^ 
The people of the United States have assured 
me that they themselves are the most enlightened 
nation under the sun ; but thou knowest that the 
barbarians of the desert, who assemble at the 
summer solstice, to shoot their arrows at that 
glorious luminary, in order to extinguish his 
burning rays, make precisely the same boast — 
which of them have the superior claim, I shall 
not attempt to decide. 

I have observed, with some degree of surprise, 
that tlie men of this country do not seem in 
haste to accommodate themselves even with the 
single wife which alone the laws permit them to 
marry ; this backwardness is probably owing to 
the misfortune of their absolutely having no 
female mutes among them. Thou knowest how 
valuable are these silent companions — what a 
price is given for them in the East, and what 
entertaining wives they make. What delightful 

1 This is another allusion to the primitive habits of Mr. 
Jefferson, who, even while the first magistrate of the Repub- 
lic, and on occasions when a little of the " pomp and circum- 
stance " of office would not have been incompatible with that 
situation, w^as accustomed to dress in the plainest garb, and 
when on horseback to be without an attendant; so that it not 
unfrequently happened that he might be seen, when the busi- 
ness of the state required his personal presence, riding up 
alone to the government house at Washington, and having 
tied his steed to the nearest post, proceed to transact the im- 
portant business of the nation. — Paris Ed. 



64 SALMAGUNDI. 

entertainment arises from beholding the silent 
eloquence of their sighs and gestures ; but a 
wife possessed both of a tongue and a soul — 
monstrous ! monstrous ! is it astonishing that 
these unhappy infidels should shrink from a union 
with a woman so preposterously endowed ! 

Thou host doubtless read in the works of Abul 
Faraj, the Arabian historian, the tradition which 
mentions that the muses were once upon the 
point of falling togetiier by the ears about the 
admission of a tenth amons their number, until 
she assured them, by signs, that she was dumb ; 
whereupon they received her with great rejoi- 
cing. I should, perhaps, inform thee that there 
are but nine Christian muses, who were formerly 
pagans, but have since been converted, and that 
in this country we never hear of a tenth, unless 
some crazy poet wishes to pay a hyperbolical 
compliment to his mistress; on which occasion it 
goes hard, but she figures as a tenth muse, or 
fourth grace, even though she should be more 
illiterate than a Hottentot, and more ungraceful 
than a dancing bear ! Since my arrival in this 
country, I have met with not less than a hundred 
of these supernumerary muses and graces — and 
may Allah preserve me from ever meeting with 
any more ! 

When I have studied this people more pro- 
foundly, I will write thee again : in the mean 
time watch over my household, and do not beat 
my beloved wives unless you catch them with 
their noses out at the window. Though far dis- 
tant, and a slave, let me live in thy heart as thou 



FASHIONS. 55 

Hvest in mine ; think not, friend of my soul, 
that the splendors of this luxurious capital, its 
gorgeous palaces, its stupendous mosques, and the 
beautiful females who run wild in herds about its 
streets, can obliterate thee from my remembrance 
Thy name shall still be mentioned in the five-and- 
twenty prayers which I offer up daily ; and may 
our great prophet, after bestowing on thee all the 
blessings of this life, at length, in good old age, 
lead thee gently by the hand, to enjoy the dignity 
of bashaw of three tails in the blissful bowers of 
Eden. MusTAPHA. 



FASHIONS. 

BY ANTHONY EVEKGREEN, GENT. 

The following article is furnished me by a young lady of un- 
questionable taste, and who is the oracle of fashion and frip- 
pery. Being deej^ly initiated into all the mysteries of the 
toilet, she has promised me, from time to time, a similar detail. 

MRS. TOOLE has for some time reigned un- 
rivaled in the fashionable world, and had 
the supreme direction of caps, bonnets, feathers, 
flowers, and tinsel. She has dressed and undressed 
our ladies just as she pleased ; now loading them 
with velvet and wadding, now turning them adrift 
upon the world to run shivering through the 
streets with scarcely a covering to their — backs; 
and now obliging them to drag a long train at 
their heels, like the tail of a paper kite. Her 



56 SALMAGUNDI. 

despotic sway, however, threatens to be limited. 
A dangerous rival has sprung up in the person 
of Madame Boucliard, an intrepid little woman, 
fj*es!i from the head-quarters of fashion and folly, 
and who has burst like a second Bonaparte upon 
the fashionable world. Mrs. Toole, notwithstand- 
ing, seems determined to dispute her ground 
bravely for the honor of old England. Tiie ladies 
have begun to arrange themselves under the 
banner of one or other of these heroines of the 
needle, and everything portends open war. Ma- 
darrje Bouchard marches gallantly to the field, 
flourishing a flaming red robe for a standard, 
"flouting the skies;" and Mrs. Toole, no wise 
dismayed, sallies out under cover of a forest of 
artificial flowers, like Malcolm's iiost. Both parties 
possess great merit, and both deserve the victory. 
Mrs. Toole charges the highest, but Madame 
Bouchard makes the lowest courtesy. Madame 
Bouchard is a little short lady — nor is there any 
hope of her growing larger ; but then she is per- 
fectly genteel, and so is Mrs. Tople. Mrs. Toole 
lives in Broadway, and Madame Bouchaj'd in 
Courtlandt street ; but Madame atones for the in- 
feriority of her stand by making two courtesies 
to Mrs. Toole's one, and talking French like an 
angel. Mrs. Toole is the best looking, but Ma- 
dame Bouchard wears a most bewitching little 
scrubby wig. Mrs. Toole is the tallest, but Ma- 
ianie Bouchard has the longest nose. Mrs. Toole 
IS fond of roast beef, but Madame Bouchard is 
loyal in her adherence to onions ; in short, so 
equally are the merits of the two ladies balanced, 



MORNING DRESS. 57 

that there is no judging which will " kick the 
beam." It, however, seems to be the prevailing 
opinion that Madame Bouchard will carry the 
day, because she wears a wig, has a long nose, 
talks French, loves onions, and does not charge 
ubove ten times as much for a thing as it is worth. 



Uiider the direction of these high piiestesses of the beau-monde^ 
the folloioing is the fashionable morning dress for walking. 

If the weather be very cold, a thin muslin 
gown or frock is most advisable, because it agrees 
with the season, being perfectly cool. The neck, 
arms, and particularly the elbows bare, in order 
that they may be agreeably painted and mottled 
by Mr. John Frost, nose-painter-general, of the 
color of Castile soap. Shoes of kid, the thinnest 
that can possibly be procured — as they tend to 
promote colds, and make a lady look interesting — 
{i, e. grizzly). Picnic silk stockings, with lace 
clocks, flesh-colored are most fashionable, as they 
have the appearance of bare legs — nudity being 
all the rage. The stockings carelessly bespattered 
with mud, to agree with the gown, which should be 
bordered about three inches deep with the most 
fashionable colored mud that can be found ; the 
ladies permitted to hold up their trains, after they 
have swept two or three streets, in order to 
show — the clocks of their stockings. The sl.awl 
scarlet, crimson, flame, orange, salmon, or any 
other combustible or brimstone color, thrown over 



58 SALMAGUNDI. 

one shoulder, like an Indian blanket, with one 
end dragging on the ground. 

N. B. if the ladies have not a red shawl at 
hand, a red petticoat, turned topsy-turvy over the 
shoulders, would do just as well. This is called 
beinof dressed a la drabble. 

When the ladies do not go abroad of a morn- 
ing, the usual chimuej-corner dress is a dotted, 
spotted, striped, or cross-barred gown ; a yellowish, 
whitish, sinokish, dirty-colored shawl, and the 
hair curiously ornamented with little bits of news- 
papers, or pieces of a letter from a dear friend. 
This is called the '' Cinderella dress." 

The recipe for a full dress is as follows : take 
of spider-net, crape, satin, gimp, cat-gut, gauze, 
whalebone, lace, bobbin, ribbons, and artificial 
flowers, as much as will riof out the congregation 
of a village church ; to these, add as many span- 
gles, beads, and gewgaws as would be sufficient to 
turn the heads of all the fashionable fair ones 
of Nootka Sound. Let Mrs. Toole or Madame 
Bouchard patch all these articles together, one 
upon another, dash them plentifully over with 
stars, bugles, and tinsel, and they will altogether 
form a dress, which, hung upon a lady's back, 
cannot fail of supplying the place of beauty, 
youth, and grace, and of reminding the spectator 
of that celebrated region of finery eddied Rag 
Fair. 



ONE of the greatest sources of amusement 
incident to our humorous knight-errantry 
is to ramble about, and hear tlie various conjee- 



INCOG. 59 

tures of the town respecting our worships, whom 
everybody pretends to know as well as Falstaff 
did Prince Hal, at Gad's-hill. We have sometimes 
seen a sapient, sleepy fellow, on being tickled with 
a straw, make a furious effort, and fancy he had 
fairly caugiit a gnat in his grasp ; so, that many- 
headed monster, the public, who, with all its 
heads, is, we fear, sadly off for brains, has, after 
long hovering, come souse down, like a king-tisher, 
on the autliors of Salmagundi, and caught them as 
certainly as the aforesaid honest fellow caught the 
gnat. 

Would that we were rich enough to give every 
one of our numerous readers a cent, as a reward 
for their ingenuity ! Not that they have really 
conjectured within a thousand leagues of the truth, 
but that we consider it a great stretch of ingenu- 
ity even to have guessed wrong ; and that we 
hold ourselves much obliged to them for havinsr 
taken the trouble to guess at all. 

One of the most tickling, dear, mischievous 
pleasures of this life is to laugh in one's sleeve 
— to sit snug in the corner, unnoticed and un- 
known, and hear the wise men of Gotham, who 
are profound judges of horse-flesh, pronounce, from 
the style of our work, who are the authors. This 
\istening incog., and receiving a hearty praising 
over another man's back, is a situation so celes- 
tially whimsical, that we have done little else than 
laugh in our sleeve ever since our first number 
was published. 

The town has at length allayed the titillations 
of curiosity, by fixing on two young gentlemen 



60 SALMAGUNDI. 

of literary talents — that is to say, they are equal 
to the composition of a newspaper squib, a hodge- 
podge criticism, or some such trifle, and may occa- 
sionally raise a smile by their effusions ; but par- 
don us, sweet sirs, if we modestly doubt your 
capability of supporting the burden of Salmagundi, 
or of keeping up a laugh for a whole fortnight, as 
we have done, and intend to do, until the whole 
town becomes a community of laughing philos- 
ophers like ourselves. We have no intention, 
however, of undervaluing the abilities of these two 
young men, wliom we verily believe, according 
to common acceptation, young men of promise. 

Were we ill-natured, we might publish some- 
thing that would get our representatives into dif- 
ficulties ; but far be it from us to do anything to 
the injury of persons to whom we are under such 
obligations. 

While they stand before us, we, like little Teucer, 
behind the sevenfold shield of Ajax, can lauuch 
unseen our sportive arrows, which, we trust, will 
never inflict a wound, unless, like his, they fly, 
*' heaven-directed," to some conscience-struck bo- 
som. 

Another marvelous great source of pleasure to 
us is the abuse our work has received from sev- 
eral wooden gentlemen, whose censures we covet 
more than ever we did anything in our lives. 
The moment we declared open war against folly 
and stupidity, we expected to receive no quarter ; 
and to provoke a confederacy of all the blockheads 
in town. For it is one of our indisputable facts, 
that so sure as you catch a gander by the tail, the 



DULLNESS IN ARMS. 61 

whole flock, geese, goslings, one and all, have a 
fellow feeling on the occasion, and begin to cackle 
and hiss like so many devils bewitched. As we 
have a profound respect for these ancient and re- 
spectable birds, on the score of their once 
saving the Capitol, we hereby declare that we 
mean no offense whatever by comparing them to 
the aforesaid confederacy. We have heard, in 
our walks, such criticism on Salmagundi as almost 
induced ^ belief that folly had here, as in the 
East, her moments of inspired idiotism. Every 
silly roystei has, as if by an instinctive sense of 
anticipated danger, joined in the cry, and con- 
demned us without mercy. All is thus as it should 
be. It would have mortified us very sensibly 
had we been disappointed in this particular, as we 
should then have been apprehensive that our shafts 
had fallen to the ground, imiocent of the " blood 
or brains" of a single numskull. Our efforts have 
been crowned with wonderful success. All the 
queer fish, the grubs, the flats, the noddies, and 
the live-oak and timber gentlemen, are pointing 
their empty guns at us ; and we are threatened 
with a most puissant confederacy of the " pigmies 
and cranes," and other '' light militia," backed by 
the heavy-armed artillery of dullness and stupidity. 
The veriest dreams of our most sanguine moments 
are thus realized. We 4iave no fear of the cen- 
sures of the wise, the good, or the fair, for they 
will ever be sacred from our attacks. We rever- 
ence the wise, love the good, and adore the fair ; 
we declare ourselves champions in their cause 
— in the cause of morality — and we throw our 
gauntlet to all the world besides. 



62 SALMAGUNDI. 

While we profess and feel the sarae indifference 
to public applause as at first, we most earnestly 
invite the attacks and censui'es of all the wooden 
warriors of this sensible city ; and especially of 
that distinguished and learned body, heretofore 
celebrated under the appellation of " The North 
River Society." The thrice valiant and renowned 
Don Quixote never made such work amongst the 
wool-clad warriors of Trapoban, or the puppets 
of the itinerant showman, as we promise to make 
among these fine fellows ; and we pledge ourselves 
to the public in general, and the Albany skippers 
in particular, that the North River shall not bo 
set on fire this winter at least, for we shall give 
the authors of that nefarious scheme ample em- 
ployment for some time to come. 



PROCLAMATION, FROM THE MILL OF PINDAE 
COCKLOFT ESQ. 

TO all the young belles who enliven our scene, 
From ripe tive-and-forty, to blooming fifteen ; 
Who racket at routs, and who rattle at plays, 
Who visit, and fidget, and dance out their days ; 
Who conquer all hearts with a shot from the eye, 
Who freeze with a frown, and who thaw with a 

sigh : — 
To all those bright youths who embellish the age, 
Whether young boys or old boys, or numskull or 
sage : 



POETICAL INTENTIONS. 63 

Whether bull dogs, who cringe at their mis- 
tress's feet, 

Who sigh and who whine, and who try to look 
sweet ; 

Whether tough dogs, who squat down stock 
still in a row 

And play wooden gentlemen stuck up for a show; 

Or SAD DOGS, who glory in running their rigs, 

Now dash in their sleighs, and now whirl in their 

Who riot at Dyde's^ on imperial champagne, 
And then scour our city — the peace to maintain; 
To whoe'er it concerns or may happen to meet, 
By these presents their worships I lovingly greet, 
Now KNOW YE, that I, Pindar Cockloft, Esquire, 
Am laureate, appointed at special desire ; 
A censor, self-dubbed, to admonish the fair, 
And tenderly take the town under my care. 

I'm a ci-devant beau, cousin Launcelot has 

said — 
A remnant of habits long vanished and dead : 
But still, thougli my heart dwells with rapture 

sublime. 
On the fashions and customs which reign'd in my 

prime, 
I yet can perceive — and still candidly praise, 
Some maxims and manners of these "latter days;'* 
Still own that some wisdom and beauty appears, 
Though almost entombed in the rubbish of years. 

1 Dyde's public-house was in Park Row. It was brought 
into notice by a famous coalition supper of the Burrites and 
Clintonians. A pamphlet was published giving an account 
of the Dyde Supper. 



G4 ' SALMAGUNDI. 

No fierce nor tyrannical cynic am I, 
Who frown on each foible I chance to espy ; 
Who pounce on a novelty, just like a kite, 
And tear up a victim through malice or spite ; 
Who expose to the scoffs of an ill-natured crew, 
A trembler for starting a whim that is new. 
No, no — I shall cautiously hold up my glass, 
To the sweet little blossoms who heedlessly pass ; 
My remarks not too pointed to wound or offend, 
Nor so vague as to miss their benevolent end : 
Each innocent fashion shall have its full sway ; 
New modes shall arise to astonish Broadway : 
Red hats and red shawls still illumine the town, 
And each belle, like a bon-fire, blaze up and 

down. 
Fair spirits who brighten the gloom of our 

days, 
Who cheer this dull scene with your heavenly 

rays, 
No mortal can love you more firmly and true, 
From the crown of the head to the sole of your 

shoe. 
I'm old fashioned, 'tis true, — but still runs in my 

heart 
That affectionate stream, to which youth gave 

the start, 
More calm in its current — yet potent in force ; 
Less rufiled by gales — but still steadfast in 

course. 
Though the lover, enraptured, no longer ap- 
pears, — 
'Tis the guide and the guardian enlightened by 

years. 



POETICAL INTENTIONS. 65 

All ripen'd and mellovv'd and soften'd by time, 
The asperities polish'd which chafed in my prime ; 
I'm fully prepared for that delicate end, 
The fair one's instructor, companion, and friend. 
— And should I perceive you in fashion's gay 

dance. 
Allured by the frippery-mongers of France, 
Expose your weak frames to a chill wintry sky 
To be nipp'd by its frosts, to be torn from the 

eye; 
My soft admonitions shall fall on your ear — 
Shall whisper those parents to whom you are 

dear — 
Shall warn you of hazards you heedlessly run, 
And sing of those fair ones whom frost has un- 
done. 
Bright suns that would scarce on our horizon 

dawn, 
Ere shrouded from sight, they were early with- 
drawn ; 
Gay sylphs, who have floated in circles below. 
As pure in their souls, and as transient as snow ; 
Sweet roses, that bloom'd and decay'd to my eye, 
And of forms that have flitted and passed to the 

sky. 
But as to those brainless pert bloods of our town, 
Tliose sprigs of the ton who run decency down ; 
Who lounge and who lout, and who booby about, 
No knowledge within, and no manners without ; 
Who stare at each beauty with insolent eyes ; 
Who rail at those morals their fathers would 
prize ; 

5 



66 SALMAGUNDI. 

Who are loud at the play — and who impiously 

dare 
To come in their cups to the routs of the fair ; 
I shall hold up my mirror, to let them survey 
The figures they cut as they dash it away : 
Should my good-humored verse no amendment 

produce, 
Like scarecrows, at least, they shall still be of 

use ; 
I shall stitch them, in effigy, up in my rhyme, 
And hold them aloft through the progress of time, 
As figures of fun to make the folks laugh, 
Like that queer-looking angel erected by Paff, 
" What shtop," as he says, " all de people what 

come ; 
What smiles on dem all, and what peats on de 

trum." 



" Haw now, mooncalf? '* 

WE have been congratulating ourselves ex- 
ceedingly on having, at length, attracted 
the notice of a ponderous genius of this city, 
Dr. Christopher Costive, LL. D., etc., who has 
spoken of us in such a manner that we are ten 
times better pleased than ever we were before. 
It shall never be said of us, that we have been 
outdone in the way of complimenting, and we 
therefore assure Dr. Christopher Costive that, for 
a Yankee doodle song, about " Sister Tabitha," 
*'our Cow," and "dandy," and "sugar-candy," 



DR. CHRISTOPHER COSTIVE. 67 

and all these jokes of truly Eastern saltness, we 
know no man more " cute " than himself. 

If Dr. Costive should find fault with having 
nothing but whipt syllabub from us, we promise 
him that, if circumstances render it necessary, 
we will occasionally give it a little variety by 
whipping him up in it as completely as ever a 
dish of ass's milk was whipt up in this world. 
Our friend seems rather vociferous in his demand 
for a dish of " flummery," and as such a dish is 
not in our bill of fare, we immediately requested 
our publisher to procure us one that would suit 
our friend's appetite. He has brought us " De- 
mocracy Unveiled, or Tyranny stripped of the 
Garb of Patriotism," by Christopher Costive, 
LL. D. etc., etc., etc., etc., etc., etc. We can 
now promise our friend to serve him up a plenti- 
ful dish of flummery from his own shop, when- 
ever he thinks fit to demand it, and gar- 
nished with a little Salma";undi for sauce. We 
hope he will not behave like his prototype, Dr. 
Lampedo, and gag at his own " patent draught." 

Our respected friend appears a little worried 
that we do not write for money. Now this looks 
ill of Dr. Costive — not that we thereby mean to 
insinuate that Dr. Costive is an ill-looking per- 
sonage ; on the contrary, we think him a great 
poet, a very great poet, the greatest poet of the 
age, and, considering the excessive gravity of 
his person, we are the more astonished at the sub- 
lime flights of his fat fancy. To convince him that 
we are disposed to befriend him all in our power, 
we take this opportunity to inform our numerous 



68 SALMAGUNDI. 

readers that there is such a man as Dr, Christo- 
pher Costive, and that he publishes a weakly pa- 
per, called the " Weekly Inspector," somewhere 
in this city, and that he writes for money} We, 
therefore, advise " everybody, man, woman, and 
child, that can read, or get anybody to read for 
them, to purchase his paper," where they will find 
the true " bubble and squeak," and " topsy- 
turvy," which Dr. Costive will at any time ex- 
change for money. 

Upon the whole, we consider him a very mod- 
est, decent, good-looking big man, who writes for 
money ; being but " half a fish and half a monster.*' 

1 The " Weekly Inspector," here alluded to, was a neatly 
printed octavo journal, chiefly political, conducted by Thomas 
Green Fessenden. It was commenced Aug. 30, 1806, and was 
published in New York by Ezra Sargent, 39 AVall Street, with 
the motto from Hamilton : " Of those men who have over' 
turned the liberties of republics, the greater number have 
begun their career by paying an obsequious court to the 
people — commencing demagogues and ending tyrants." 

Feb. 7, 1807, a fortnight after its publication, Fessenden 
notices Salmagundi, a " new literary publication," with an 
opening fling or two at the club of wits who profess them- 
selves supremely indifierent to the reception of their work. 
In the next number but one of the " Inspector" the attack 
is followed up by an article — "Salmagundi — o/ir^s Bubble 
AND Squeak — again." In reply to the notice of the former 
which had appeared in the interim in Salmagundi, Chris- 
topher Caustic raves in his extraordinary slang at these 
"frothy productions." "The disease," he says, '• is becom- 
ing epidemic, the fever rising to frenzy, spreading from fool to 
fool; a numberless number of nameless names have already 
caught the infection, and from one end of the town to the 
other, all is nonsense and 'Salmagundi.'" He calls it "a 
mere hodge-podge of train oil and garlic, instead of ' Salma- 



DR. CAUSTIC'S RAVINGS. 69 

gundi.' .... This is, in English, a ' gibe cat,' smoth- 
ered in onions and eaten with fennel, rue, and caraway seed 
In fact, there was one Huddesford, an English wit, who wrote 
a poem with that are title, which this worst of wizards may 
have purloined in some of their rambles, and thus gained a 
lerjal claim to the wit it contains." He proposes, to his own 
great delight, " Silly-kickaby " as a substitute for " Salma- 
gundi."' " Having dispatched ' Salmagundi ' or SiUy-kicknby, 
we come next to ' Whimwhams and Opinions.' What a 
broken-backed metaphor! it is as bad as to have christened 
your nonsense Apjile Dumpling ; or Flights of Fancy. 

' Atque idem jungat vulpes 
Et mulgeat hircos ' — 

That is, in English: — 

This sorry set of silly shoats, 
Should be employed to milk he-goats, 
Or sent to Carolina bogs, 
To yoke ox-teams of prairie dogs. 

Whimwhams' is taken by this junto of notables from an 
English publication. Launcelot Langstaff is a vile daub 
of a caricature of Isaac Bickerstaff. Will Honeycomb sat 
for Anthony Evergreen; Will Wizard's original may be 
found in the British classics ; and in short, the prototype of 
every other character, with the exception of a ^QVf scurrilous 
personalities. The work ought to have been styled Silly-kick- 
aby, alias Tag-locks of common English Publications^ compiled 
by Dunderpate, Doughhead, Dumpling and Co., published 
by Peter Pettyman, sold at the sign of the Ditch delving 
driveller, Caughnawaugher Slip, dedicated, and to be devoted, 
to a certain goddess." The Doctor ends with abusing the 
metre of Pindar Cockloft, and then asserting that it was 
stolen from " Dr. Caustic's nick-nackatory." 

We shall see in a future number how the Doctor's literary 
billingsgate was followed up in Salmagundi. The " Weekly 
Inspector " replies in tlie small shot of a handful of " squibs '* 
in his number for March 6, leveled at " the lilliputian 
journal," alluding to the small page of the original edition 
of Salmagundi, and the war dies out. 



70 SALMAGUNDI. 

The " Inspector" makes his exit at the close of his second 
volume, Aug. 22, 1807. 

These mutual random hits and editorial discourtesies of a 
type too common in the annals of literature — these quarrels 
of authors — should be remembered for what they were, the 
passing nonsense of the hour. Thomas Green Fessenden, 
notwithstanding this nonsensical raving, was a man of mark 
and merit — not only of humor and spirit in the comic verses 
with which he enlivened the newspaper discussions of his 
day, but to be held in memory for his more sober labors in 
the cause of agriculture. There is a very pleasing reminis- 
cence of his later 3-ears — he died at the age of sixty-six in 
1837 — by Nathaniel Hawthorne, in which he celebrates 
" the amiable temper and abstracted habits " of his old 
friend. 





NO. IV. -TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 24, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

ERHAPS there is no class of men to 
which the curious and literary are more 
indebted than travellers — I mean travel- 
mongers, who write whole volumes about them- 
selves, their horses, and their servants, interspersed 
with anecdotes of innkeepers, droll sayings of stage- 
drivers, and interesting memoirs of — the Lord 
knows who. They will give you a full account 
of a city, its manners, customs, and manufactures ; 
though perhaps all their knowledge of it was ob- 
tained by a peep from their itm-windows, and an 
interesting conversation with the landlord or the 
waiter. America has had its share of these buz- 
zards ; and in the name of my countrymen I re- 
turn them profound thanks for the compliments 
they have lavished upon us, and the variety of 
particulars concerning our own country, which we 
should never have discovered without their assist- 
ance. 

Influenced by such sentiments, I am delighted 
to find that the Cockloft family, among its other 
whimsical and monstrous productions, is about to 
be enriched with a genuine travel- writer. This 
is no less a personage than Mr. Jeremy Cock- 



72 SALMAGUNDI. 

loft, the only son and darling pride of my cousin, 
Mr. Cliristopher Cockloft. I should have said 
Jeremy Cockloft, the younger^ as he so styles 
himself, by way of distinguishing him from II 
Signore Jeremy Cockloftico, a gouty old gentle- 
man who flourished about the time that Pliny 
tiie elder was smoked to death with the fire 
and brimstone of Vesuvius ; and whose travels, 
if he ever wrote any, are now lost forever 
to the world. Jeremy is now in his one-and- 
twentieth year, and a young fellow of wonderful 
quick parts, if you will trust to the word of his 
father, who, having begotten him, should be the 
best judge of the matter. He is the oracle of 
the family, dictates to his sisters on every oc- 
casion, though they are some dozen or more years 
older than himself — and never did son give 
mother better advice than Jeremy. 

As old Cockloft was determined his son should 
be both a scholar and a gentleman, he took great 
pains with his education, which was completed at 
our university, where he became exceedingly ex- 
pert in quizzing his teachers and playing billiards. 
No student made better squibs and crackers to 
blow up the chemical professor; no one chalked 
more ludicrous caricatures on the walls of the 
college ; and none were more adroit in shaving 
pigs and climbing lightning-rods. He moreover 
learned all the letters of the Greek alphabet ; 
could demonstrate that water never, " of its own 
accord," rose above the level of its source, and 
that air was certainly the principle of life ; for 
he had been entertained with the humane experi- 



JEREMY COCKLOFT. 73 

inent of a cat worried to death in an air-pump. 
He once shook down the ash-house, bj an artificial 
earthquake ; and nearly blew his sister Barbara 
and her cat out of the window with thundering 
powder. He hkewise boasts exceedingly of being 
thoroughly acquainted with the composition of 
Lacedemonian black broth ; and once made a pot 
of it, which had well-nigh poisoned the whole 
family, and actually threw the cook-maid into 
convulsions. But above all, he values himself 
upon his logic, has the old college conundrum of 
the cat with three tails at his fingers' ends, and 
often hampers his father with his syllogisms, to 
the great delight of the old gentleman ; who con- 
siders the major, minor, and conclusion, as almost 
equal in argument to the pulley, the wedge, and 
the lever, in mechanics. In fact, my cousin Cock- 
loft was once nearly annihilated with astonish- 
ment, on hearing Jeremy trace the derivation 
of Mango from Jeremiah King — as, Jeremiah 
King, Jerry King ! Jerking, Girkin ! cucumber, 
Mango ! In short, had Jeremy been a student 
at Oxford or Cambridge, he would, in all prob- 
ability, been pronioted to the dignity of a senior 
wrangler. By this sketch I mean no disparage- 
ment to the abilities of other students of our 
college, for I have no doubt that every commence- 
ment ushers into society luminaries full as brilliant 
as Jeremy CochlofU the younger. 

Having made a very pretty speech on grad- 
uating, to a numerous assemblage of old folks 
and young ladies, who all declared that he was 
u very fine young man, and made very handsome 



74 SALMAGUNDI, 

gestures, Jeremy was seized with a great desire 
to see, or rather to be seen by the world ; and 
as his father was anxious to give him every pos- 
sible advantage, it was determined Jeremy should 
visit foreign parts. In consequence of this resolu- 
tion, he has spent a matter of three or four months 
in visiting strange places ; and in the course of 
his travels has tarried some few days at the splen- 
did metropolis' of Albany and Philadelphia. 

Jeremy has travelled as every modern man of 
sense should do; that is, he judges of things by 
the sample next at hand ; if he has ever any 
doubt on a subject, always decides against the 
city where he happens to sojourn ; and invariably 
takes home as the standard by which to direct 
his judgment. 

Going into his room the other day, when he 
happened to be absent, I found a manuscript 
volume lying on his table ; and was overjoyed to 
find it contained notes and hints for a book of trav- 
els which he intends publishing. He seems to 
have taken a late fashionable travel-monger for 
his model, and I have no doubt his work will be 
equally instructive and amusing with that of his 
prototype. The following are some extracts, 
which may not prove uninteresting to my readers. 



TEE STRANGER IN NEW JERSEY. 75 



MEMORANDUMS FOR A TOUR TO BE ENTITLED 
"THE STRANGER IN NEW JERSEY , OR, COCK- 
NEY TRAVELLING." i 

BY JEREMY COCKLOFT, THE YOUNGER. 
CHAPTER I. 

THE man in the moon ^ — preparations for de- 
parture — hints to travellers about packing 
their trunks ^ — straps, buckles, and bed-cords — 
ease of pistols, a la cockney — five trunks, three 
bandboxes, a cocked hat, and a medicine chest, 
d la Frangaise — parting advice of my two sis- 
ters — quere, why old maids are so particular in 

1 It is not a little singular, that this mode of ridiculing the 
gossiping productions of Sir John Carr, and other tourists of 
the day, should have been successfully adopted almost at the 
same moment by two writers placed in different and distant 
quarters of the globe. My Focket-Book appeared in Lon- 
don only two or three weeks after the publication of these 
"Memorandums" in New York — so that neither writer 
could possibly have borrowed from the other — and by its in- 
genious pleasantry and poignant satire, crushed a whole host 
of book-making tourists, with the luckless knight at their 
head. — Paris Ed. This matter is again referred to at the 
close of No. XIII. 

2 Vide Carr's Stranger in Ireland. John Carr, Esq., of the 
Honorable Society of the Middle Temple, wrote several slip- 
slop entertaining books of travel, A Northern Summer^ 
The Stranger in France^ and The Stranger in Ireland^ a Tour 
in 1805. The last appears to have been popular in America. 
It reached its third edition from the New York press of Riley, 
this very year, 3807. 

3 Vide Weld. Isaac Weld travelled through the United 
3tatesin 1795-7. 



76 SALMAGUNDI. 

their cautions against naughty women — descrip- 
tion of Powles-Hook ferry-boats — might be eon- 
verted into gun-boats, and defend our ports 
equally well with Albany sloops — Brom, the 
black ferryman — Charon — river Styx — ghosts ; 

— Major Hunt — good story — ferriage ninepence; 

— city of Harsimus — built on the spot where the 
folk once danced on their stumps, while the devil 
fiddled — quere, why do the Harsimites talk Dutch ? 

— story of the Tower of Babel, and confusion of 
tongues — get into the stage — driver a wag — 
famous fellow for running stage races — killed 
three passengers and crippled nine in the course 
of his practice — pliilosophical reasons why stage- 
drivers love grog — causeway — ditch on each 
side for folk to tumble into — famous place for 
skilly-pots ; Philadelphians call 'em tarapins — 
roast them under the ashes as we do potatoes — 
quere, may not this be the reason that the Phil- 
adelphians are all turtle-heads ? — Hackensack 
bridge — good painting of a blue liorse jumping 
over a mountain — wonder who it was painted 
by ; — mem. to ask the Baron de Grusto about 
it on my return ; — Rattlesnake Hill, so called 
from abounding with butterflies ; — salt marsh, 
surmounted here and there by a solitary hay-stack 

— more tarapins — wonder why the Philadel- 
phians don't establish a fishery here, and get a 
patent for it — bridge over the Passaic — rate of 
toll — description of toll-boards — tollman had 
but one eye — story how it is possible he may 
have lost the other — pence-table, etc.-^ 

1 Vide Carr. 



DE OMNIBUS REBUS. 77 



CHAPTER II. 



Newark — noted for its fiue breed of fat mos- 
quitoes — sting through the thickest boots ^ — 
story about GalJy nippers — Archy GifFord and 
his man Caliban — jolly fat fellows — a know- 
ing traveller always judges of everything by the 
innkeepers and waiters- — set down Newark 
people all fat as butter — learned dissertation on 
Archy Gilford's green coat, with philosophical 
reasons why the Newarkites wear red worsted 
nightcaps, and turn their noses to the south when 
the wind blows — Newark academy full of win- 
dows — sunshine excellent to make little boys 
grow — Elizabethtown — fine girls — vile mos- 
quitoes — plenty of oysters — quere, have oysters 
any feeling ? — good story about the fox catching 
them by his tail — ergo, foxes might be of great 
use in the pearl fishery — landlord member of 

1 Firfe Weld. " General Washington," says AVeld, "told 
me that he never was so much annoyed by mosquitoes in any 
part of America, as in Skenesborough, for that they used to 
bite through the thickest boot." 

2 Vide Carr ; vide Moore ; vide Weld ; vide Parkinson ; 
vide Priest. Richard Parkinson, late of Orange Hill, near 
Baltimore, published in London, 1805, his tour in America, 
in 1798-1800, exhibiting sketches of Society and Manners, 
and a particular account of the American system of agricul- 
ture, etc. William Priest, who signs himself on the title-page 
of his book, "Musician, late of the theatres Philadelphia, 
Baltimore, and Boston," travelled in the United States be- 
tween the years 1793 and 1797, and published his journals in 
London, in a thin octavo in 1802. Vide Linkum Fidelias, 
and vide Messrs. Tag, Rag, and Bobtail. 



78 SALMAGUNDI. 

the legislature — treats everybody who has a vote 
— mem. all the innkeepers members of the leg 
islature in New Jersey ; Bridge-town, vulgarly 
called Spank-town^ from a story of quondam par- 
son and his wife — real name, accordinor to 
Linkum Fidelius, Bridge-town, from bridge, a 
contrivance to get dry shod over a river or brook ; 
and town^ an appellation given in America to the 
accidental assemblage of a church, a tavern, and 
a blacksmith's shop — Linkum as right as my 
left leg ; — Rahway River — good place for gun- 
boats — wonder why Mr. Jefferson don't send a 
river fleet here, to protect the hay vessels? — 
Woodbridge — landlady mending her husband's 
breeches — sublime apostrophe to conjugal affec- 
tion and the fair sex ; ^ — Woodbridge famous for 
its crab-fishery — sentimental correspondence be- 
tween a c rab and a lobster — digression to Abe- 
lard and Eloisa ; — mem. when the moon is in 
Pisces, she plays the devil with the crabs. 

CHAPTER Til. 

Brunswick — oldest town in the State — divis- 
ion line between two counties in the middle of 
the street; — posed a lawyer witli the case of a 
man standing with one foot in each county — 
wanted to know in which he was domicil — law- 
yer couldn't tell for the soul of him ; — mem. all 
the New Jersey lawyers nums ; — Miss Hay's 
boarding-school — young ladies not allowed to 
eat mustard — and why ? — fat story of a mus- 
tard-pot, with a good saying of Ding-Dong's; — 
1 Vide, the Sentimental Kotzebue. 



ET QV IB USD AM ALUS. 79 

Vernon's tavern — fine place to sleep, if the 
noise would let you — another Caliban! — Ver- 
non slew-Qyddi — people of Brunswick, of course, 
all squint ; — Drake's tavern — fine old blade — 
wears square buckles in his shoes — tells bloody 
long stories about last war — people, of course, 
all do the same ; — Hook'em Snivy, the famous 
fortune-teller, born here — contemporary with 
Mother Shoulders — particulars of his history — 
died one day — lines to his memory, which found 
their way into my pocket-hook ; ^ — melancholy re- 
flections on the death of great men — beautiful 
epitaph on myself. 

CHAPTER rv. 

Princeton — college — professors wear boots ! 
— students famous for their love of a jest — set 
the college on fire, and burned out the professors ; 
an excellent joke, but not worth repeating — 
mem. American students very much addicted to 
burning down colleges — reminds me of a good 
Btory, nothing at all to the purpose — two socie- 
ties in the college — good notion — encourages 
emulation, and makes little boys fight ; — students 
famous for their eating and erudition — saw two 
at the tavern, who had just got their allowance 
of spending money — laid it all out in a supper, 

1 Vide, Carr and Blind Bet. Carr, in his travels, meets on 
the roadside in Wales a stone-blind woman, supporting her- 
self and infirm mother by the sale of gloves and stockings. 
The traveller perpetrates some verses on the occasion, which 
he introduces in this ludicrous fashion: ''Upon her quitting 
us, the following lines found their way into my pocket-book ! " 



80 SALMAGUNDI. 

got fuddled, and d — d the professors for nincoms. 
N. B. Southern gentlemen — church-yard — apos- 
trophe to grim death — saw a cow feeding on a 
grave — metempsychosis — who knows but the 
cow may have been eating up the soul of one of 
my ancestors — made me melancholy and pensive 
for fifteen minutes ; — man planting cabbages ^ — 
wondered how he could plant them so straight — 
method of mole-catching — and all that — quere, 
whether it would not be a good notion to ring 
their noses as we do pigs' — mem. to propose it 
to the American Agricultural Society — get a 
premium, perhaps — commencement — students 
give a ball and supper — company from New 
Yoik, Philadelphia, and Albany — great contest 
which spoke the best English — Albanians vocif- 
erous in their demand for sturgeon — Philadel- 
phians gave the preference to raccoon ^ and splac- 
nuncs^ — gave them a long dissertation on the 
phlegmatic nature of a goose's gizzard — students 
can't dance — always set off with the wrong foot 
foremost — Duport's opinion on that subject — 
Sir Christopher Hatton the first man who ever 
turned out his toes in dancing — favorite with 
Queen Bess on that account — Sir Walter 
Raleigh — good story about his smoking — his 

1 Vide Carr. 

2 Vide Priest. " At two," says Priest, " the Philadelphians 
dine on what is usual in England, both a variety of American 
dishes, such as bear, opossum, raccoon, etc. ! " 

2 Gulliver is announced by the town crier in Brobdignag 
as " a strange creature to be seen at the sign of the Green 
Eagle, not so big as a splacnuck, an animal in that country 
very finely shaped, about six feet long." 



FURTHER ADVENTURES. 81 

descent into New Spain — El Dorado — Candide 

— Dr. Pan gloss — Miss Cunegunde — earthquake 
at Lisbon — Baron of Thundertentronck ^ — 
Jesuits — Monks — Cardinal Woolsey — Pope 
Joan — Tom Jefferson — Tom Paine, and Tom 

the whew ! N. B. Students got drunk as 

usual. 

CHAPTER V. 

Left Princeton — country finely diversified 
with sheep and hay-stacks ^ — saw a man riding 
alone in a wappn ! why the deuce didn't the 
blockhead ride in a chair ? fellow must be a fool 

— particular account of the construction of 
wagons, carts, wheelbarrows, and quail-traps — 
saw a large flock of crows — concluded there 
must be a dead horse in the neighborhood — 
mem. country remarkable for crows — won't let 
the horses die in peace — anecdote of a jury of 
crows — stopped to give the horses water — good- 
looking man came up and asked me if I had 
seen his wife ? heavens ! thought I, how strange 
it is that this virtuous man should ask me about 
his wife — story of Cain and Abel — stage-driver 
took a swig — mem. set down all the people as 
drunkards — old house had moss on the top — 
swallows built in the roof — better place than 
old men's beards — story about that — derivation 
of words kippy, hippy ^ hippy, and shoo-pig ^ — 

1 Jeremy Cockloft appears, in this enumeration, to have 
come from a recent perusal of Voltaire's Candide. 

2 Vide Carr. 

8 Vide Carr's learned derivation of gee and whoa. 
6 



82 SALMAGUNDI 

negro drlvt^r could not write his own name — 
languishing state of literature in this country;-^ 
philosophical inquiry of 'Sbidlikens, why the 
Americans are so much inferior to the nobility 
of Cheapside and Shoreditch, and why they do 
not eat plum-pudding on Sundays — superfine 
reflections about anything. 

CHAPTER VI. 



Trenton — built above the head of navigation 
to encourage commerce — capital of the State — 
only wants a castle, a bay, a mountain, a sea, and 
a volcano, to bear a strong resemblance to the 
Bay of Naples^ — supreme court sitting — fat 
chief justice — used to get asleep on the bench 
after dinner — gave judgment, I suppose, like 
Pilate's wife, from his dreams — reminded me of 
Justice Bridlegoose deciding by a throw of a die, 

1 Moore: — 

*' Is this the region then, is this the clime 
For soaring fancies? for those dreams sublime, 
Which all their miracles of light reveal 
To heads that meditate and hearts that feel? 
Alas! not so — the Muse of nature lights 
Her glories round; she scales the mountain heights, 
And roams the forests; every wondrous spot 
Burns with her step, yet man regards it not. 
She whispers round, her Avords are in the air, 
But lost, unheard, they linger freezing there, 
Without one breath of soul, divinely strong, 
One ray of mind, to thaw them into song." 

— Epiitle to the Eon. W. R. Spencer, from Buffalo, upon Lake 

Erie. 

2 Can. 



OF STURGEONS. 83 

and of the oracle of the holy bottle ^ — attempted 
to kiss the chambermaid — boxed my ears till 
they rung like our theatre-bell — girl had lost 
one tooth — mem. all the American ladies prudes, 
and have bad teeth ; Anacreon Moore's opinion 
on the matter. State-house — fine place to see 
the sturgeons jump up — query, whether stur- 
geons jump up by an impulse of the tail, or 
whether they bounce up from the bottom by the 
elasticity of their noses ? Linkum Fidelius of 
the latter opinion — I too — sturgeon's nose capi- 
tal for tennis-balls — learnt that at school — went 
to a ball — negro wench principal musician! 
N. B. People of America have no fiddlers but 
females ! — origin of the phrase, " fiddle of your 
heart" — reasons why men fiddle better than 
women ; expedient of the Amazons, who were 
expert at the bow; waiter at the city tavern — 
good story of iiis — nothing to the purpose — 
never mind — fill up my book like Carr — make 
it sell. Saw a democrat s'et into a stage followed 
by his dog.^ N. B. This town remarkable for 
dogs and democrats — superfine sentiment^ — 
good story from Joe Miller — ode to a piggin of 
butter — pensive meditations on a mouse-hole — 
make a book as clear as a whistle ! 

1 Rabelais' Judge Bridlegoose and famous Oracle. There 
was a slight difficulty in the Judge's method of decision, 
" he was become old, and his sight of late was very much 
failed, and become dimmer than it was wont to be; by reason 
of which infirmity he was not able so distinctly and clearly 
to discern the points of the dice, as formerly he had been ac- 
customed to do." 

2 Moore. s Carr. 



84 SALMAGUXDI. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIE. 

I HAVE observed a particular intimacy fiwr 
these few days past between that dry wag, 
Will Wizard, and my cousin Pindar. The latter 
has taken his winter quarters at old Cockloft's, 
in the comer room opposite mine, in order to be 
at hand and overlook the town. They hardly 
gave themselves time, on Sunday last, to wait 
for the family toast of " our absent friends," be- 
fore ihey adjourned to Pindar's chamber. In the 
course of an hour my cousin's enormous manda- 
rin inkstand was sent down to be replemshed. 
I be^ran to be seriously alarmed, for I thought 
if they had exhausted its contents without ex- 
hausting their subject, there was no knowing 
where it would end- 
On returning to tea, my cousin Pindar was 
observed to rub his hands, a sure sign that some- 
thing tickled his fancy ; he. however, maintained 
as mysterious a couurenance as a Seventh Ward 
politician. As to Will Wizard, he took longer 
strides than usuaL his inflexible phiz had an un- 
commonly knowing air, and a sagacious wink 
occasionally betrayed that he had more in his 
head than he chose to communicate. The whole 
family (who in truth are much given to wonder 
at everything) were sadly puzzled to conjecture 
what iheir two precious noddles had been bother- 
ing about. 

In the evening, after I had retreated to my 
citadel, the elbow-chair, I was surprised by the 
abrupt entrance of these two worthies. My 



A ROD AV PICKLE. 



cousin opened the budget at once : he dedared 
that it was as necessary for a modem poet to 
have an assistant, as for Don Qnixote to have a 
Sancho — that it was the fa=-hion for poets, now- 
adays, to write so ineffitblv obscure, that every 
line required a page of notes to explain its 
meaning:, and render its " darkness visible " — 
that a modem poem could no idcm« succeed with- 
out notes, than a paper kite could fly without a 
tail. In a word, Pegasus had become a most 
mulish animal, and would not budge a foot, 
unless he lumbered along a cart-load of quota- 
tions and explanations, and illustrations at his 
heels : he had therefore prevailed on Will Wiz- 
ard to assist him occasionally as annotator and 
illustrator. As a specimen of their united labors, 
he handed roe the following complimentary ode 
to that king of the buzzanJs. Dr. Christopher 
Costive, informing me that he had plenty more 
on hand whenever occasion required it. I had 
been rather surprised lately at the Doctors med- 
dling with us, as he was sure of gaining more 
kicks than coppers in return ; but I am told an 
ass loves to have his muzzle scratched with net- 
tles. On expressing my surprise. Will informed 
me that it was all a sham battle : that he was 
very intimate with the Doctor, and could relate 
a thousand diverting anecdotes concemintr him ; 
and that the Doctor, findin;? we were in want of 
a butt, had generously volunteered himself as our 
target. I wish him joy of his bargain. 

In the tbllowing poem it will be observed that, 
while my cousin Pindar tunes his pif-e on the 



1^06 



SALMAGUNDI. 



top of the page, Will Wizard worries away at 
his thorough bass below. The notes of a mod- 
ern poem being like the sound of a French horn, 
bassoon, kettle-drum, and bass-viol, in our or- 
chestra, which make such a confounded racket, 
that they entirely drown the song ; and no man, 
who has not the sublime ear of a connoisseur, 
can tell what the devil they're playing. 



FLUMMERY. 

FROM THE MILL.1 OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

Being a Poem with Notes, or rather Notes with a Poem; ^ in 
the manner of 

DOCTORS CHRISTOPHER COSTIVE. 

" Prick me Bull calf till he roars." * 

Falslaff. 

rilHE greatest ^ poet of our day, 
JL From State of Maine to Louisiana ; ^ 
The hero who did 'sist upon't, 
He wou'dn't be deputy to Mr. Hunt ;' 
Who rear'd a gallows for each elf, and 
Did for hangman his own self stand. ^ 
And made folks think it very odd, he 
Should turn Ja.ck Ketch to everybody, 
The modern mounter of Pegasus, 
The clumsj'^ jolter of Jackasses,^ 



FLUMMERY. 87 

Who, now the poet's dray horse starts on, 

Anon, the gibbet hurdle carts on, 

Now o'er a poem dozes happy, 

And next expertly draws the cap ; he 

Who cares not though the world should know it 

That he 's half hangman, half a poet.^^ 

Who gibbeted the knaves so knowing. 

That kept Democracy a-going, 

Hung his Jac-similp, famed Toney ^^ 

Pasquin, the friend of Mr. Hon^. 

Who drags like snail his filthy slime 

Through many a ragged, hobbling rhyme, 

Then calls his billingsgate — sarcastic ! 

His drabbling doggrel — Hudibrastic ! 

[|Good lack, my friends, 'twould make you soon-^ 

laugh, 
To see this jolter-headed moon-calf, 
From Hudibras his honors steal 
And break Sam Butler on the wheel.] ^^ 
With other things that I might tell ye on 
Performed by this rump-fed hellion ^* 
— But not o'er long to dwell upon't. 
This man as big as an elephant,^^ 
This sweetest witlinor of the asfe, ^^ 
This hero^ hangman, critic, sage,^^ 
This poet of five hundred pound ^^ 
Has come to grace our hapless town. 
And when he entered, every goose 
Began to cackle like the deuce ; 
The asses brayed to one another — 
Twas plain — the creatures smelt a brother. 



88 SALMAGUNDI. 

NOTES, BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

1 Mill.'] As we are not a little anxious to cultivate the in- 
timacy so happily commenced between the Doctor and our- 
selves, we feel bound in candor to confess the charge made 
against us, of having borrowed from him some of the phrases 
and ideas of our last number; and we justify ourselves by 
attributing it to our high regard for his talents: for what can 
be a greater proof of friendship, nowadays, than borrowing? 
If we were his enemies, we might justify it by the old maxim 
of " foiling the devil with his own weapons." As to the 
"mill," Avhich the Doctor so vociferously claims, honest Pin- 
dar acknowledges that he borrowed the idea from the Doc- 
tor's writings in general, for he never dipped in them without 
thinking of our nocturnal music-grinder, who continually 
grinds over and over the same sleepy tune of, " 0, hard is 
my fate." 

2 Notes with a Poem.l Whatever merit may appear in this 
Poem, my friend Cockloft must own that it is entirely owing 
to his close adherence to his big prototype. Dr. Caustic. The 
rhymes are generally harrowed from the Doctor's own works, 
possessing all that quaintness, cuteness, and clumsiness, for 
which he is remarkable. As the lesser thing should always 
depend upon the greater, we have rather inverted the usual 
title of such works, and made the poem minor. We recom- 
mend the Doctor's mode of comjiiling a book to all the nums 
of the day — as an example, we instance his " Terrible Trac- 
toration," of Avhich, as feAV buy, and still fewer read it (a 
proof that the town are not quite such fools as the Doctor 
would make them), we shall say little. The book was 
smothered in notes, like a goose in onions — some ill-natured 
cynics have asserted that what little whim the work contained 
lay entirely in the notes, which we are sorry to say were not 
written by the Doctor; his poem might therefore be said to 
resemble the ley of a stool, dressed up with savory sauce ; or, 
as the Doctor will understand it better, that famous dish 
called pumph'ii-pie, where, though the pumpkin gives the 
name to the dish, yet the great skill of the ook is to hide the 
twan^ of it as much as possible with spice and saynr. 



FLUMMERY. 89 

3 Doctor.'] The Doctor, we are told, was not bred a physi- 
cian; nor was he indebted for his appellation to a gratuitous 
donation from any university, as Doctor of Laws — he was 
humorously so dubbed by his neighbors in Vermont, on ac- 
count of having once benevolently physicked a sick horse — 
his works bear testimony to his drenching abilities; and we 
may justly apply to him an unlucky epigram, written on a 
brother quack in physic and poetry : — 

" For physic aud farces 
His equal tliere scarce is — 
\\\f>.fnrcps are physic — 
His physic & farce is." 

4 Prick Bull calf^ e^c] We had not the least expectation 
that our notice of Doctor Costive, in the last number, would 
have put him into such an indecent passion. Bless us, how 
he has roared ! and like FalstafF not only roared but " ran and 
roared " — 

" unpack'dhis heart with words, 



And fell a cursing — like a very drab ! 
A scullioa I " 

He has given us a most woful scolding through some eight 
or nine columns, and plainly proved that our work was not 
worth a fig, because " Salmagundi " had been heretofore given 
as a title to another work — Launcelot Langstaff was evi- 
dently copied from Isaac BickerstafF, becMuse they both ended 
with staff — " Whimwhams " was the same as " Flim- 
flams" — " Will Wizard " was taken from — the Lord knows 
where; Wintry was accidentally misspelled or misprinted 
Wintery, and " Weakly " Avas borrowed frpm his own Weakly 
productions. 0, Midas, Midas, how thine ears do loom 
through the fog of thy writings. When a man of the Doctor's 
gumption can write nine columns against our woi'k, and dis- 
cover no greater faults, we may well be vain — were we to 
criticise our own writings, they would stand a much poorer 
chance. Tn spite of the Doctor's crustiness we still love him 
in our hearts — he mav scold like an old woman but we know 



90 SALMAGUNDI. 

it all arises from that excessive irritability common to all men 
who have "written a book," and particularly a book of dog- 
gerel rhymes. We again assure him of our perfect good-will 
toward himself and his most amiable offspring, that delec- 
table pair of twin brothers, Terrible Tracloration and Dcr 
mocracy Unveiled. May the whole world in general, and pos- 
terity in particular, know the proper distinction between 
Hudibrastic and Doggerel, and acquit the Doctor from the 
imputation meanly leveled against him by sundry nincoms 
of imitating Hudibras. We ai-e sorry that he should ever 
have been thought capable of descending to be a copjist, and 
we challenge the whole world to deny that the Doctor's verse 
is doggerel, genuine, broken-winded, rickety doggerel, what- 
ever his enemies may insist to the contrary. The Doctor's 
waggery, however, like that of many other double-headed 
wits, seems often to have been taken by the wrong end. On 
the first appearance of his Terrible Tracioradon, the critics 
were absolutely'' at a loss, such was the delicacy of his wit, to 
say Avhether he was the champion or opponent of Perkinism. 
Thus the Critical Review for 1803 : " His real object cannot 
always be ascertained — we think him, however, the friend of 
the Tractors " Either the Doctor or the critic must have 
heen a dunderhead — we charitably suppose the critic. The 
Doctor afterward, like " John-a-Gudgeon " in the Pleader's 
Guide, explained, and his explanation proved so perfectly 
satisfactory that there were very few of the reviewers but 
could tell, or at least guess at his object. The fact was, the 
Doctor, good inoffensive soul, did not mean to attack anything 
— except common sense. We recommend this work as a 
soporific specimen of the Doctor's skill in balderdash. 

5 Greatest poet.] Great Is sometimes a positive, sometimes 
a figurativ^e term — as we say a, great man, a. great mountain 
or when speaking of the Doctor, great man mountain — hav- 
ing no allusion here to the mountain which brought forth a 
mouse. When, however, we speak of the Doctor as a great 
nan or great poet, we mean to be understood that he is some 
8ix teet six inches high — three feet across the shoulders, nine 
round the paunch — that he weighs about half a ton, and is 
withal most clumsily hung together. 



FLUMMERY. 91 

• Louisiana.'] Though we plume ourselves on adhering 
closely to the Doctor's rhymes, yet we have taken the liberty 
of differing a little in the pronunciation of this word — the 
Doctor gives it in the true eastern dialect, Lousy-anee — but 
to give it a la Costive — 

*' Which late, 'tis said, in weather rainy, 
Was melted in Louisiana." 

Again: for when the Doctor gets hold of a good rhyme, ho 
is a " woundy " toad for harping on it. 

*' But please his highness ship, I won't 
Be deputy to Mr. Hunt : 
No — were it offered 'twould be vain, he 
Won't catch me in Louisiana (or Lousy-anee "). 

These two latter lines are truly as musical as marrowbones 
and cleavers, and remind us of that sweet couplet, by the 
Doctor's rival, the inimitable Searson 

" From this seat I pass'd to Alexandria, 
And am pleased through rural scenes to wander." 

Sear. Mount Ver. 

If our reader wishes for more specimens of the Doctor's 
knack at rhyming, we'll give him the oft-repeated tags of 
" rogues and demagogues," " brewing and ruin," " wilder- 
ing and children," '' women and common," " trimming and 
women," " well-knows and fellows," " comparison and har- 
ass'd-em; " together with an occasional mixture of those attic 
eastern jingles of " dandy and handy " and " sugar candy.' 
The Doctor and Sear.son's poetic contest is similar to one 
that whilom took place between two honest tars (we beg the 
gentle Joe Miller's pardon for bovrowing an anecdote); one 
gave as jyvize couplet : — 

" As she slips she slides along, 
A faithful friend is hard to fina!^ 

but the other rhymester beat him all hollow by singing out 

'* My quart pot holds a gallon, 
By zounds." 



92 SALMAGUNDI. 

' Deputy to Mr. Hunt.] Mr. Hunt was a little man and a 
young man ; the Doctor, although of the same age, feeling 
the immensity of his qualifications, refuses to second such a 
governor, urging his size, and like Billy Bugby, alleging 
that what he wanted in years he made up in bulk ; and if he 
lacked in brains, he atoned for all in garbage. 

8 Did for hangman, etc.] How the Doctor ever came to 
stumble on this unhappy idea, we are at a loss to imagine — 
it is an odd " whimwham " tor a fellow to dub himself with 
the humorous epithet of hangman. " We would not have his 
enemies say so." Wliether the Doctor has a hanging look or 
no, we leave others to determine. AYe are certain he is in no 
danger of the gallows himself ; but we warn him to take care 
how he visits Connecticut — he may chance to be burnt for a 
witch. We give the Doctors own claim to his Tyburn title. 

" Now since ye are a ruffian crew, 
As honest Jack Ketch ever knew ; 
No threats nor growling shall prohibit 
My hanging you on satire's gibbet." Vide CostiTe. 

9 This clumsy jolter of jackasses.] As this line partakes of 
the true Costive obscurity, we beg leave to explain. There is 
no intention of calling the Doctor a jackal's, we only mean 
that he makes an ass of Pegasus, and even when on poor 
Pegasus (so degraded) he is but a miserable rider. His 
trotting, pacing, nigglety-nagglety lines, put us often in 
mind of that pious but quaint expression about the " devil 
riding rough shod over a soul." 

10 Half a poet.] 0, tie! fi-iend Cockloft, this savors of 
sheer envy. Were there any doubts of the Doctor's being a 
whole poet — aye, and a big poet, the following verse would 
set them at rest. It shows that he is a complete jockey on 
Pegasus; and when the poor nag won't pace, he'll cudgel 
him as soundly as he does his own brains: — 

" Yes, we were 'raptm^ed when he said 
We're all republican, all fed- 
Ral fellow-citizens, Americans, 
And hoped wed done with faction's hurricanes ! " — Costive. 



FL UMMER T. 93 

Is this poetic frenzy (alias idiotism), t*r is it turgid stu- 
pidity ? Truly it is as smooth as a pine-log causeway ; it con- 
tirms the Doctor's right to his sir-name, and can only be 
matched by a stave fiom the Doctor's contemporaiy bard and 
rival rhymester, Searson — videlicet : — 

" From house to house soon took my departure, 
And to the garden look'd for sweet nature. 
The fishing very great at Mount Ternon, 
When there with other scenes I look'd upon. 
This pleasing sevt hath its prospects so high, 
That one would think "twas for astronomy, 
' Twould answer for an observatory. " 

The reader will perceive the similarity in taste, style, and 
ear of these rival poets. I have their works bound up to- 
gether, and Minshull's into the bargain. It shall go hard but 
they shall all descend the gutter of immortality together. 

11 His facsimile, famed Toney.'] The Doctor's abusing poor 
Toney Pasquin, brought forcibly to our recollection the vulgar 
cant saying about the pot and the kettle. Perhaps no two of 
the great poets of the day are more alike, in most particulars, 
than Doctor Costive and honest Toney. The Doctor is a true 
poetic bhickguard — and so is Toney. The Doctor is an 
adept in the Billingsgate vocabulary — so is Toney. The 
Doctor has bespattered many a poor devil who never offended 
him — so has Toney. The Doctor has ^Titten a book — so 
has Toney. It may be said of each of them — 

" We will not rake the dunghill for his crimes, 
Who knows the man will never read his rhymes." 

The only particular in which they disagree is, that Toney 
has occasionalh' been convicted of saying a good thing — the 
gentle stupidity of the Doctor being entirely innocent of any- 
thing of the kind. 

" Oh, here's another pumpion, the cramm'd son of a starved 
usurer, Cacafogo. Both their brains buttered cannot make 
two spoonsful." — Rule a Wife. 

12 Soan.] This word is entirely unnecessary'- to the sense, 
and is dragged in for no other purpose whatever but to eke 



94 SALMAGUNDI. 

out the line, iu humble imitation of a dull, but honest expe- 
dient, frequently made use of by the illustrious Searson. and 
his great rival, Doctor Costive. 

13 And break, etcJ\ It has for some time been a trick with 
many a sleepy scribbler, beside the Doctor, though now it has 
grown rather notorious, to break their crabbed lines with a 
" list or stick," or a crowbar, and then term their chopped hay 
Hudibrastic — thus is poetry daily put on the rack; and thus 
is poor Butler crucified every hour. 

1-* Rump-fed hellion.'] Lest the Doctor should here again ac- 
cuse us of borrowing — a thing, by the by, we strongly sus- 
pect him of, as we think we can discover that many of his 
tnoughts, and certainly some of kis rhymes, are borrowed 
tiom the immortal Searson and the inimitable Minshull — we 
acknowledge that we are indebted for this line to Shakespeare. 
"\Miether the term rump-fed applies to the Doctor or not, we 
cannot exactly tell ; but if we were not afraid of swelling our 
notes, we would, following the example of the Doctor in his 
Democracy Unveiled, give our readers an account of the fa- 
mous Rump Parliament — and truly 'twould be as much in 
point as most of the notes in that celebrated work. 

EeUi'jn. '• A deputy scullion employed in regions below ' to 
cook up the broth.' " — Link. Fid. The Doctor, good man, 
has employed himself, while on earth, as far as his weakly 
powers would go, in stewing up manj' a woful kettle of tish. 

" Double, double, toil and trouble, 
Fire bum, and cauldron bubble." 

Shakespeare must certainly have had the Doctor's weekly 
mess of bubble and squeak in view, when he wrote the above. 
15 .4s big as an elephant.'] There is more truth than poetry 
in this comparison. The following curious anecdote was told 
me by the Doctor himself, when I breakfasted with him the 
other morning : The elephant which travelled lately through 
our country, was shown in New England ; two simple country 
girls, desirous of seeing what kind of a beast it was, applied 
for admittance. On entering the room, the Doctor, who was 
etooping to tie his shoe-string Avith his back toward them. 



GENERAL REMARK. 95 

was for a moment taken for the elephant ! They declared it 
was a clumsy creature — " they could not make head nor tail 
of it." No wonder, poor things, the critics were as much 
puzzled themselves, as we have already shown. 

16 Sweetest willing.] A poetic license, the Doctor certainly 
being none of the sweetest of personages. Many a fair 
flower, however, springs out of a dunghill — and the Doctor 
is not the lirst poet who has written a sweet song in " marvel- 
ous dirty linen." 

1' This hero, hangman, etc.] 

" All hushed in mute attention sit, 
To hear this critic, poet, wit, 
Philosopher, all, all at once, 
And to complete them, all this DUNCE." 

Lloyd. 
18 /Y»e hundred jjouna.'j i. e. five hundred pounds weight; 
or in true avoirdupois, 4 cwt. 1 qu. 24 lbs. 



GENERAL RExMARK. 

We have endeavored to copy the Doctor's style 
and manner as correctly as possible throughout 
this charming poem ; the rhymes are chiefly 
" filched *' from his own labors, and jingle as har- 
moniously as sleigh bells — like him, we have 
sometimes risen and sometimes descended, with 
all his leaden profundity. Some poets sip in the 
Heliconian stream, others dabble in it. The 
Doctor exceeds them all — he has a true poetic 
DIVING-BELL — plunges boldly to the bottom, 
and there drabbles in the mud like a flounder, 
In the gallows part of his poem, the Doctor may 
truly be said to rise ; and in our touch on the 



96 SALMAGUNDI. 

Helicon, we have almost equaled those profound 
sinkings of his genius, where the Doctor even 
descends below himself. We conclude with bor- 
rowing a speech from old Shakespeare — " Give 
me thy hand," Doctor, " 1 am sorry I beat thee ; 
but while thou livest, keep a good tongue in thy 
head." 

NOTICE. 

While in a " state militant," wajrinor war 
with folly and stupidity, and assailed on all sides 
by a combination of nincoms and numsculls, we 
are gratified to find that our careless effusions 
have received the approbation of men of wit and 
genius. We have expressed heretofore our con- 
tempt for the applause of the million, but we 
confess ourselves ambitious of the praises of the 
few ; we have read, therefore, with infinite self- 
congratulation the encomiums passed on our pro- 
ductions by the learned and liberal editor of the 
" People's Friend." The attacks of that billings- 
gate droll. Dr. Costive, and his whole North River 
fraternity, could not give us greater delight. Wo 
also publish with pride the following Card from 
the authors of " The Echo," ^ a work which 
we have commended to a conspicuous post in 
our library, and we do hereby shake its au- 
thors by the hand as a set of right merry wags, 
choice spirits, and, what we think better than all, 
genuine humorists. 

1 The famous production of the Hartford wits, Alsop, 
Dwight, Hopkins, & Co. 



EFFUSIONS RECEIVED. 97 



CARD. 

** The authors of The Echo send a copy of it 
to the writers of Salmagundi, which they re- 
quest them to accept, as a mark of the pleasure 
tliey have received from their Cervantic effu- 
sions." 

Now we are in the humor of card writing, we 
would acknowledge the reception of several efi\i- 
sions in prose and verse, whicli, though they do 
great credit to the writers, and would doubtless 
be both pleasing and instructive to the public, 
yet do not come exactly within the intention of 
our work ; the authors, therefore, will excuse 
our not publishing them. 

We have likewise received a note written in 
a French hand, but in villainous bad English. 
Will Wizard has been at much pains to decipher 
it, but in vain ; it is as unintelligible as a Her- 
culanenn manuscript. He has discovered, how- 
ever, that it is a vindication of dancing, together 
with a long eulogy on the pas de chat 

As a considerable part of this paper is taken 
up with a stupid subject, namely ; the Doctor, and 
we do not wish that our readers should pay for 
*' flummery " merely, we have directed our pub- 
lisher to give them eight pages extra ; this will 
account for the unusual size of the present num- 
ber. We confess we horroioed this idea, among 
many others, fi-om the Doctor, who lately finding 
7 



98 



SALMAGUNDI. 



that his readers were dissatisfied with the contents 
of his " weekly " paper, endeavored to put them 
in good humor by doubling the hulk ; this he 
waggishly enough terms doubling the dose — (X 
the droll dog ! 





NO. V. — SATURDAY, MARCH 7, 1807. 

FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

TIE following letter from my friend 
Mustapha appears to have been written 
^Syjl some time subsequent to the one already 
published. Were I to judge from its contents, 
1 should suppose it was suggested by the splendid 
review of the twenty-fifth of last November, when 
a pair of colors wei-e presented at the City Hall, 
to the regiments of artillery ; and when a huge 
dinner was devoured by our corporation, in the 
honorable remembrance of the evacuation of this 
city. I am happy to find that the laudable spirit 
of military emulation which prevails in our city 
has attracted the attention of a stranger of Mus- 
tapha's sagacity ; by militai'v emulation I mean 
that spirited rivalry in tiie size of a hat, the 
length of a feather, and the gingerbread finery 
of a sword-belt. 



J.ETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 
KHAN, TO ABDALLAH EB'N AL RAHAB, SUR- 
NAMED THE SNORER, MHJTARY SENTINEL AT 
THE GATE OF HIS HIGHNESS' PALACE. 

inOU hast heard, O Abdallah, of the great 
magician Muley Fuz, who could change 
a blooming land blessed with all the elysian 



rr\\ 



100 SALMAGUNDI. 

charms of hill and dale, of glade and grove, of 
fruit and flower, into a desert, frightful, solitary, 
and forloi-n ; who, with the wave of his wand 
could transform even the disciples of Mahomet 
into gi-inning apes and chattering monkeys. 
Surely, thought I to myself this morning, the 
dreadful Muley has been exercising his infernal 
enchantments on these unhappy infidels. Listen, 
O Abdallah, and wonder ! Last night I com- 
mitted myself to tranquil slumber, encompassed 
with all the monotonous tokens of peace, and 
this morning 1 awoke enveloped in the noise, 
the bustle, the clangor, and the shouts of war. 
Everything was changed, as if by magic. An 
immense army had sprung up, like mushrooms, 
in a night, and all the cobblers, tailors, and tin- 
kers of the city had mounted the nodding plume ; 
had become, in the twinkling of an eye, helmeted 
heroes and war-worn veterans. 

Alarmed at the beating of drums, the braying 
of trumpets, and the shouting of the multitude, I 
dressed myself in haste, sallied forth, and followed 
a prodigious crowd of people to a place called the 
Battery. This is so denominated, I am told, 
from having once been defended with formidable 
wooden bulwarks, which in the course of a hard 
winter were thriftily pulled to pieces by an eco- 
nomic corporation, to be distributed for fii-e-wood 
among the poor; this was done at the liint of a 
cunning^ old enjrineer, who assured tlieni it was the 
only way in which their fortifications would ever 
be able to keep up a warm fire Economy, my 
friend, is the watch-word of this nation ; I have 



APPEARANCE OF THE ARMY 101 

been studying for a month past to divine its 
meaning, but truly am as much perplexed as ever. 
It is a kind of national starvation ; an experiment 
how many comforts and necessaries the body pol- 
itic can be deprived of before it perishes. It has 
already arrived to a lamentable degree of debility, 
and promises to share the fate of the Arabian 
philosopher, wlio proved that he could live with- 
out food, but unfortunately died just as he had 
brought his experiment to perfection. 

On arriving at the Battery, I found an im- 
mense army of six hundred men, drawn up in a 
true Mussulman crescent. At first I supposed this 
was in compliment to myself, but my interpreter 
informed me that it was done merely fot^:j'Want 
of room — the corporation not being able to afford 
them sufficient to display in a straight line. 
As I expected a display of some grand evolutions 
and military maneuvers, I determined to remain 
a tranquil spectator, in hopes that I might possi- 
bly collect some hints which might be of service 
to His Highness. 

This great body of men, I perceived, was under 
the command of a small bashaw, in yellow and 
gold, with white nodding plumes, and most for- 
midable whiskers; which, contrary to the Tripol- 
itan fashion, were in the neighborhood of his 
ears instead of his nose. He had two attendants 
called aid-de-camps (or tails), being similar to a 
bashaw with two tails. The bashaw, though 
commander-in-chief, seemed to have little more to 
do than myself; he was a spectator within the 
lines, and 1 without : he was clear of the rabble, 



102 Salmagundi. 

and I was encompassed by then* ; this was the 
only difference between us, except that he had the 
best opportunity of showing his clothes. I waited 
an hour or two with exemplary patience, expect- 
ing to see some grand military evolutions or a sham 
battle exhibited'; but no such thing took place; 
the men stood stock still, supporting their arms, 
groaning under the fatigues of war, and now and 
then sending out a foraging party to levy contri- 
butions of beer and a favorite beverage which 
they denominated grog. As I perceived the 
crowd very active in examining the line, from one 
extreme to the other, and as I could see no other 
purpose for which these sunshine warriors should 
be exposed so long to the merciless attacks of the 
wind and weather, I of course concluded that this 
must be the review. 

In about two hours the army was put in motion, 
and marched through some narrow streets — there 
the economic corporation had carefully provided 
a soft carpet of mud — to a magnificent castle of 
painted brick, decorated with grand pillars of pine 
boards. By the ardor which brightened in each 
countenance, I soon perceived that this castle was 
to undergo a vigorous attack. As the ordnance 
of the castle was perfectly silent, and as they had 
nothing but a straight street to advance through, 
they made their approaches with great courage 
and admirable regularity, until within about a 
hundred feet of the castle a pump opposed a for- 
midable obstacle in their way, and put the whole 
army to a nonplus. The circumstance was sud- 
den and unlooked for : the commanding oflScer 



A BRILLIANT CHARGE, 103 

ran over all the military tactics with which his 
head was crammed, but none offered any expedi- 
ent for the present awful emergency. The pump 
maintained its post, and so did the commander ; 
there was no knowing^ which was most at a stand. 
The commanding officer ordered his men to wheel 
and take it in flank ; the army accordingly wheeled 
and came full butt against it in the rear, exactly 
as they were before, " Wheel to the left !" cried 
the officer ; they did so, and again as before the 
inveterate pump intercepted their progress. 
"Right about face!" cried the officer; the men 
obeyed, but bungled — i\\Q,y faced back to back. 
Upon this the bashaw with two tails, with great 
coolness, undauntedly ordered his men to push 
right forward, pell-mell, pump or no pump ; they 
gallantly obeyed ; after unheard-of acts of bra- 
very the pump was carried, without the loss of 
a man, and the army firmly intrenched itself un- 
der the walls of the castle. The bashaw had 
then a council of war with his officers ; the most 
vigorous measures were resolved on. An ad- 
vanced guard of musicians were ordered to at- 
tack the castle without mercy. Then the whole 
band opened a most tremendous battery of drums, 
fifes, tambourines, and trumpets, and kept up a 
thundering assault, as if the castle like the walla 
of Jericho, spoken of in the Jewish Chronicles, 
would tumble down at the blowing of rams' horns. 
After some time a parley ensued. The grand 
bashaw of the city appeared on the battlements 
of the castle, and as far as I could understand from 
circumstances, dared the little bashaw of two tails 



1U4 SALMAGUXDI. 

to single combat — this thou kuowest was in the 
style of aucieut chivalry — the little bashaw dis- 
mouuted with great intrepidity, and ascended the 
battlements of the castle, where the great bashaw 
waited to receive him, attended by numerous 
dignitaries and worthies of his court, one of whom 
bore the splendid bimners of the castle. The 
battle was carried on entirely by words, accord- 
ing to the universal custom of this country, of 
which I shall speak to thee more fully hereafter. 
The grand bjishaw made a furious attack in a 
speech of considerable length ; the little bashaw, 
by no means appalled, retorted with great spirit. 
The grand bashaw attempted to rip him up with 
an argument, or stun him with a solid fact ; but 
the little bashaw parried them both with admi- 
rable adroitness, and run him clean through and 
through with a syllogism. The grand bashaw 
was overthrown, the bannei-s of the castle yielded 
up to the little bashaw, and the c<istle surren- 
dered after a vigorous defense of three hours, dur- 
ing which the besiegers suffered great extremity 
from muddy streets and a drizzling atmosphere. 

On returning to dinner I soon discovered that 
as usual 1 had been indulgincr iu a oreat mistake. 
The matter Wiis all clearly explained to me by 
a fellow-lodger, who on ordinary occasions moves 
in the humble character of a tailor, but in the 
present instance figured iu a high military station, 
denominated corporaL He informed me that 
what I had mistaken for a castle was the splen- 
did palace of ihe municipality, and that the sup- 
posed attack was nothing more than the delivery 



FEA THERS. I05 

of a flag given by the authorities, to the army, 
for its magnanimous defense of the town for up- 
ward of twenty years past, that is, ever since the 
last war I ray friend, surely everything in 
this country is on a great scale ! — The con- 
versation insensibly turned upon the military 
establishment of the nation ; and I do assure thee 
that my friend, the tailor, though being, according 
to a national proverb, but the ninth part of a man, 
yet acquitted himself on military concerns as ably 
as the grand bashaw of the empire himself. He 
observed that their rulers had decided that vrars 
were very useless and expensive, and ill befitting 
an economic, philosophic nation ; they had there- 
fore made up their minds never to have any wars, 
and consequently there was no need of soldiers or 
military discipline. As, however, it was thought 
highly ornamental to a city to have a number of 
men dressed in fine clothes 'dUil Jeaihers, strutting 
about the streets on a holiday, — and as the wo- 
men and childi'en were particularly fond of such 
raree shoivs, it was ordered that the tailors of the 
different cities throughout the empire should, forth- 
with, go to work and cut out and manufacture 
soldiers as fast as their shears and needles would 
permit. 

These soldiers have no pecuniary pay ; and 
tlieir only recompense for the immense services 
wliich they render their country, in their voluntary 
parades, is the plunder of smiles, and winks, and 
nods which they extort from the ladies. As they 
have no opportunity, like the vagrant Arabs, of 
making inroads ou their neighbors : and as it is 



106 SALMAGUNDI. 

necessary to keep up their military spirit, the 
town is therefore now and then, but particularly 
on two days of the year, given up to their rav- 
ages. The arrangements are contrived with ad- 
mirable address, so that every officer, from the 
bashaw down to the drum-major, the chief of the 
eunuchs, or musicians, shall have his share of that 
invaluable booty, the admiration of the fair. As 
to the soldiers, poor animals, they, like the pri- 
vates in all great armies, have to bear the brunt 
of danger and fatigue, while their officers receive 
all the glory and reward. The narrative of a 
parade day will exemplify this more clearly. 

The chief bashaw, in the plenitude of his 
authority, orders a grand review of the whole 
army at two o'clock. The bashaw with two tails, 
that he may have an opportunity of vaporing 
about, as greatest man on the field, orders the 
army to assemble at twelve. The kiay, or colonel, 
as he is called, that is, commander of one hundred 
and twenty men, orders his regiment or tribe to 
collect one mile at least from the place of parade 
at eleven. Each captain, or fag- rag, as we term 
them, commands his squad to meet at ten at least 
half a mile from the regimental parade; and to 
close all, the chief of the eunuchs orders his in- 
fernal concert of fifes, trumpets, cymbals, and 
kettle-drums to assemble at ten! — from that 
moment the city receives no quarter. All is noise, 
hooting, hubbub, and combustion. Every window, 
door, crack, and loophole, from the garret to the 
cellar, is crowded with the fascinating fair of all 
ages and of all complexions. The mistress smiles 



THE HONORS OF WAR. 107 

through the windows of the drawing-room ; the 
chubby chambermaid lolls out of the attic case- 
ment, and a host of sooty wenches roll their white 
eyes and grin and chatter from the cellar door. 
Every nymph seems anxious to yield voluntarily 
that tribute which the heroes of their country 
demand. First struts the chief eunuch, or drum- 
major, at the head of his sable band, magnificently 
arrayed in tarnished scarlet. Alexander himself 
could not have spurned the earth more superbly. 
A host of ragged boys shout in his train, and in- 
flate the bosom of the warrior with tenfold self- 
complacency. After he has rattled his kettle- 
drums through the town, and swelled and swag- 
gered like a turkey-cock before all the dingy 
Floras, and Dianas, and Junos, and Didos of 
his acquaintance, he repairs to his place of des- 
tination loaded with a rich booty of smiles and 
approbation. Next comes the fag RAG, or cap- 
tain, at the head of his mighty band, consisting 
of one lieutenant, one ensign, or mute, four ser- 
geants, four corporals, one drummer, one fifer, 
and if he has any privates so much the better 
for himself. In marching to the regimental 
parade, he is sure to paddle through the street or 
lane wiiich is honored with the residence of his 
mistress or intended, whom he resolutely lays 
under a heavy contribution. Truly it is delect- 
able to behold these heroes, as they march, cast 
side glances at the upper windows ; to collect the 
.'smiles, the nods, and the winks, which tlie enrap- 
tured fair ones lavish profusely on the magnani- 
mous defenders of their country. 



108 SALMAGUNDI. 

The fag-rags having conducted their squads 
to their respective regiments, then comes the turn 
of the colonel, a bashaw with no tails, for all 
eyes are now directed to him ; and the fag-rags, 
and the eunuchs, and the kettle-drummers, havuig 
had their hour of notoriety, are confounded and 
lost in the military crowd. The colonel sets his 
whole regiment in motion ; and mounted on a 
mettlesome charger, frisks and fidgets, and capers, 
and plunges in front, to the great entertainment 
of the multitude, and the great hazard of him- 
self and his neighbors. Having displayed him- 
self, his trappings, his horse, and his horseman- 
ship, he at length arrives at the place of general 
rendezvous, blessed with the universal admiration 
of his country-women, I should perhaps mention 
a squadron of hardy veterans, most of whom 
have seen a deal of service during the nineteen 
or twenty years of their experience, and who, 
most gorgeously equipped in tight green jackets 
and breeches, trot and amble, and gallop and 
scamper like little devils through every street and 
nook and corner and poke-hole of the city, to the 
great dread of all old people, and sage matrons 
with young children. This is truly sublime ! this 
is what I call making a mountain out of a mole- 
hill. O, my friend, on what a great scale is 
everything done in this country. It is in the 
style of the wandering Arabs of the desert El-tih, 
Is a village to be attacked, or a hamlet to be 
plundered, the wliole desert, for weeks beforehand, 
is in a buzz: such marching and counter-marching, 
ere they can concentrate their ragged forces ! and 



TH?: TUG OF WAR. 109 

the consequence is, that before they can bring 
their troops into action, the whole enterprise is 
blown. 

The army being all happily collected on the 
Battery, though, perhaps, two hours after the 
time appointed, it is now the turn of the bashaw 
with two tails to distinguish himself. Ambition, 
my friend, is implanted alike in every heart, it 
pervades each bosom, from the bashaw to the 
drum-major. This is a sage truism, and I trust, 
therefore, it will not be disputed. The bashaw, 
fired with that thirst for glory, inseparable from 
the noble mind, is anxious to reap a full share 
of the laurels of the day and bear off his portion 
of female plunder. The drums beat, the fifes 
whistle, the standards wave proudly in the air. 
Tlie signal is given! thunder roars the cannon! 
away goes the bashaw, and away go the tails ! 
The review finished, evolutions and military 
maneuvers are generally dispensed with for three 
excellent reasons : first, because tlie army knows 
very little about them ; second, because, as the 
country has determined to remain always at 
peace, there is no necessity for them to know 
anything about them ; and third, as it is growing 
late, the basliaw must dispatch, or it will be too 
dark for him to get his quota of the plunder. 
He, of course, orders the whole army to march ; 
and now, my friend, now comes the tug of war, 
now is the city completely sacked. Open fly the 
Battery gates, forth sallies the bashaw with his 
two tails, surrounded by a shouting body-guard 
of boys and negroes ! then pour forth his legions. 



110 SALMAGUNDL 

potent as the pismires of the desert ! the custom- 
ary salutations of the country commence — these 
tokens of joy and admiration which so much an- 
noyed me on first hiuding ; the air is darkened 
with old hats, shoes, and dead cats ; they fly in 
showers like the arrows of the Parthians. The 
soldiers, no ways disheartened, like the intrepid 
followers of Leonidas, march gallantly under 
their shade. On they push, splash, dash, mud or 
no mud. Down one lane, up another ; the 
martial music resounds through every street ; 
the fair ones throng to their windows^ the soldiers 
look every way but straight forward. " Carry 
arms ! " cries the bashaw — " tan-ta ra-ra," brays 
the trumpet — •' rub-a^dub," roars the drum — 
'' hurraw," shout the ragamuffins. The bashaw 
smiles with exultation — every fag-rag feels him- 
self a hero — "none but the brave deserves the 
fair ! " Head of the immortal Amrou, on what a 
great scale is everything in this country ! 

Ay, but you'll say, is not this unfair that the 
officers should share all the sports while the pri- 
vates undergo all the fatigue ? truly, my friend, I 
indulged the same idea, and pitied from my heart 
the poor fellows who had to drabble through the 
mud and the mire, toiling under ponderous cocked 
hats, which seemed as unwieldy and cumbrous 
as the shell which the snail lumbers along on his 
back. I soon found out, however, that they have 
their quantum of notoriety. As soon as the army 
is dismissed, the city swarms with little scouting 
parties, who fire off their guns at every corner, 
to the great delight of all the women and chil- 



SUMMING UP. Ill 

dreii in their vicinity ; and woe unto any dog, or 
pig, or hog, tliat falls iu the way of these mag- 
nanimous warriors ; they are shown no quarter. 
Every gentle swain repairs to pass the evening at 
the feet of liis dulcinea, to play, " the soldier 
tired of war's alarms," and to captivate her with 
the glare of his regimentals; excepting some am- 
bitious heroes who strut to the theatre, flame 
away in the front boxes, and hector every old 
apple-woman in the lobbies. 

Such, my friend, is the gigantic genius of this 
nation, and its faculty for swelling up nothings 
into importance. Our bashaw of Tripoli will re- 
view his troops of some thousands, by an early 
hour in the morning. Here a review of six 
hundred meji is made the mighty work of a day ! 
with us a bashaw of two tails is never appointed 
to a command of less than ten thousand men ; 
but here we behold every grade, from the bashaw 
down to the drum-major, in a force of less than 
one-tenth of the number. By the beard of Ma- 
homet ! but everything here is indeed on a great 
scale. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

XWAS not a little surprised the other morning 
at a request from Will Wizard that I would 

accompany him that evening to Mrs. 's ball. 

The request was simple enough in itself, it was 
only singulai- as coming from Will ; of all my 



112 SALyfAGrXDI. 

acquaintance. Wizard is the least calculated and 
disponed for the society of ladies — not ihat he 
dislikes their eompaiiy ; on the contrary, like 
every man of pith and marrow, he is a professed 
admirer of ihe sex; and had he been bom a poet, 
would undoubtedly have bespattered and be 
rhymed some hard-named goddess, until she be- 
came a« famous as Petrarch's Laura, or Waller's 
Sacbarissa : but Will is such a confounded bungler 
at a bow. has so many odd bachelor habits, and 
finds it so troublesome to be gallant, that he 
generally prefers snK»kin2 his dgar and telling 
bis stories among cronies of his own gender — 
and thuntiering I0115 stories they are, let me tell 
yoa ; set Will once a-going about China or Crim 
Tartary. or the Hottentots, and Heaven help the 
poor victim who has to endure his prolixity : he 
might belter be tied to the tail of a jaxi-o'-lantem. 
In one word — Will talks like a traveller. Being 
well acquainted with his character, I was the 
iBore alarmed at his inclinaiion to visit a parly ; 
since he has often assured me, that he considered 
it as equivalent to being stuck up for three hoozs 
in a steam engine. I even wondered how he had 
received an invitation ; this he soon aoooanted for. 
It seems WilL on his last arrival from Canton, 
had made a present of a case of tea to a lady for 
irhoai be had once entertained a sneaking kind- 
ness when at sTammar school : and she in return 
had invited him to come and drink some of it; 
a cheap way enough of paying off little obligations. 
I readily acceded to Will's proposition, expecting 
enteriainment from his eccentric remarks ; 



WJLL WIZARD'S EVENING DRESS. 113 

and as he has been absent some few years, I an- 
ticipated his surprise at the splendor and elegance 
of a modern rout. 

On calling for Will in the evening, I found 
him full dressed, waiting for me. I contemplated 
him with absolute dismay. As he still retained 
a spark of regard for the lady who once reigned 
in his affections, he had been at unusual pains in 
decorating his person, and broke upon my sight 
arrayed in the true style that prevailed among 
our beaux some years ago. His hair was turned 
U23 and tufted at the top, frizzled out at the ears, 
a profusion of powder puffed over the whole, and 
a long plaited club swung gracefully from shoulder 
to shoulder, describing a pleasing semicircle of 
powder and pomatum. His claret-colored coat 
was decorated with a profusion of gilt buttons, 
and reached to his calves. His white cassimere 
small-clothes were so tight that he seemed to have 
grown up in them ; and his ponderous legs, which 
are the thickest part of his body, were beautifully 
clothed in skv-blue silk stockings, once considered 
SO becoming. But above all, he prided himself 
upon his waistcoat of China silk, which might al- 
most have served a crood housewife for a sliort- 
gown ; and he boasted that the roses and tulips 
upon it were the work of Nang-Fou, daughter of 
the great Chin- Chin- Fou^ who had fallen in love 
with the graces of his person, and sent it to him 
as a parting present ; he assured me she was a 
remarkable beauty, with sweet obliquity of eyes, 
and a foot no larger than the thumb of an alder- 
man ; he then dilated most copiously on his silver- 
8 



114 SALMAGUNDI. 

sprigged dickey, which he assured me was qnite 
the rage among the dashing young mandarins of 
Canton. 

I hold it an ill-natured office to put any man 
out of conceit with himself; so, though I would 
willingly have made a little alteration in my 
friend Wizard's picturesque costume, yet I politely 
complimented him on his rakish appearance. 

On entering the room I kept a good look-out 
on Will, expecting to see him exhibit signs of 
surprise ; but he is one of those knowing fellows 
who are never surprised at anything, or at least 
will never acknowledge it. He took his stand in 
the middle of the floor, playing with his great 
steel watch-chain ; and looking round on the com- 
pany, the furniture, and the pictures, with the 
air of a man " who has seen d — d finer things 
in his time;" and to my utter confusion and dis- 
may, I saw l)im coolly pull out his villainous old 
japanned tobacco-box, ornamented with a bottle, 
a pipe, and a scurvy motto, and help himself to 
a quid in face of all the company. 

I' knew it was all in vain to find fault with a 
fellow of Will's Socratic turn, who is never to be 
put out of liumor with himself; so, after he had 
given his box its prescriptive rap and returned it 
to his pocket, 1 drew him into a corner where we 
might observe the company without being prom- 
inent objects ourselves. 

•' And pray who is that stylish figure," said 
Will, '• who blazes away in red, like a volcano, 
and who seems wrapped in flames like a fiery 
dragon ? " That," cried I, " is Miss Laurella 



BILLY DIMPLE. 115 

Dashaway — she Is the highest flash of the ton — 
has much whim and more eccentricity, and has 
reduced many an unhappy gentleman to stupidity 
by her charms ; you see she holds out the red 
Hag in token of ' no quarter.' " " Then keep me 
safe out of the sphere of her attractions," cried 
Will, " I would not e'en come in contact with 
her train, lest it should scorch me like the tail of 
a comet. But who, I beg of you, is that amia- 
ble youth who is handing a young lady, and at the 
same time contemplating his sweet person in a 
mirror as he passes?" "His name,'' said I, "is 
Billy Dimple ; he is a universal smiler, and 
would travel from Dan to Beersheba and smile 
on everybody as he passed. Dimple is a slave 
to the ladies — a hero at tea-parties, and is fa- 
mous at the pirouette and the pigeon-wing ; a 
fiddle-stick is his idol, and a dance his elysium." 
" A very pretty young gentleman, truly," cried 
Wizard, " he reminds me of a contemporary 
beau at Hayti. You must know that the mag- 
nanimous Dessalines gave a great ball to his 
court one fine sultry summer's evening ; Dessy 
and me were great cronies — hand and glove — 
one of the most condescending great men I ever 
knew. Such a display of black and yellow beau- 
ties ! such a show of Madras handkerchiefs, red 
beads, cocks' tails and peacocks' feathers ! — it 
was, as here, who should wear the highest top- 
knot, drag the longest tails, or exhibit the great- 
est variety of combs, colors, and gewgaws. In 
the middle of the rout, when all was buzz, slip- 
slop, crack, and perfume, who should enter but 



116 SALMAGUNDI. 

Tucky Squash ! The yellow beauties blushed 
blue, and the black ones blushed as red as they 
could, with pleasure ; and there was a universal 
agitation of fans ; every eye brightened and 
whitened to see Tucky ; for he was the pride of 
the court, the pink of courtesy, the mirror of 
fasliion, the adoration of all the sable fair ones 
of Hayti. Such bi'eadth of nose, such exuberance 
of lip ! his shins had the true cucumber curve ; 
his face in dancing shone like a kettle ; and pro- 
vided you kept to windward of him in summer, 
I do not know a sweeter youth in all Hayti than 
Tucky Squash. When he laughed, there ap- 
peared from ear to ear a chevaux-de-frise of 
teeth, that rivaled the shark's in whiteness ; he 
could whistle like a northwester ; play on a 
three-stringed fiddle like Apollo ; and as to dan- 
cing no Long Island negro could shuffle you 
* double trouble,' ' hoe corn and dig potatoes ' more 
scientifically — in short, he was a second Lo- 
thario. And the dusky nympiis of Hayti, one 
and all, declared him a perpetual Adonis. Tucky 
walked about, wliistling to himself, without re- 
garding anybody ; and his nonchalance was irre- 
sistible.*' 

I found Will had got neck and heels into one 
of his travellers stories ; and there is no know- 
ing how far he would have run his parallel be- 
tween Billy Dimple and Tucky Squash, had not 
the music struck up from an adjoining apartment 
and summoned the company to a dance. The 
sound seemed to have an inspiring effect on 
honest Will, and he procured the hand of an old 



WILL WIZARD'S DANCING. 117 

acquaintance for a country dance. It happened 
to be the fashionable one of " the Devil anions the 
Tailors," which is so vociferously demanded at 
every ball and assembly ; and many a torn gown, 
and many an unfortunate toe did rue the dancing 
of that night ; for Will thundered down the dance 
like a coach and six, sometimes right, some- 
times wrong ; now running over half a score of 
liltle Frenchmen, and now making sad inroads 
into ladies' cobweb muslins and spangled tails. 
As ewkiry part of Will's body partook of the ex- 
ertion, he shook from his capacious head such 
volumes of powder that, like pious ^neas on his 
first hiterview with Queen Dido, he might be 
said to have been enveloped in a cloud. Nor 
w^as Will's partner an insignificant figure in the 
scene ; she was a young lady of most voluminous 
proportions, that quivered at every skip ; and 
being braced up in the fashionable style, with 
whalebone, stay-tape, and buckram, looked like 
an apple-pudding tied in the middle ; or, taking 
her flaming dress into consideration, like a bed 
and bolsters rolled up in a suit of red curtains. 
The dance finished, I would gladly have taken 
Will off; but no, he was now in one of his 
happy moods, and there was no doing anything 
with him. He insisted on my introducing him to 
Miss Sophy Sparkle, a young lady unrivaled 
for playful wit and innocent vivacity, and who 
like a brilliant adds lustre to the front of fashion. 
I accordingly presented him to her, and began a 
conversation in which, I thought, he might take a 
share ; but no such thing. Will took his stand 



118 SALMAGUNDI. 

beside her, straddling like a Colossus, with his 
hands in his pockets, and an air of the most pro- 
found attention ; nor did he pretend to open his 
lips for some time, until, upon some lively sally 
of hers, he electrified the whole company with a 
most intolerable burst of laughter. What was to 
be done with such an incorrigible fellow ? To 
add to my distress, the first word he spoke was 
to tell Miss Sparkle that something she had said 
reminded him of a circumstance that happened to 
him in China ; and at it he went in the true 
traveller style ; described the Chinese mode of 
eating rice with chop sticks ; entered into a long 
eulogium on the succulent qualities of boiled 
bird's nests ; and I made my escape at the very 
moment when he was on the point of squatting 
down on the floor, to show how the little Chinese 
Joshes sit cross-legged. 



TO THE LADIES. 

FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

THOUGH jogging down the hill of life, 
Without the comfort of a wife ; 
And though I ne'er a helpmate chose, 
To stock my house and mend my hose ; 
With care my person to adorn ; 
And spruce me up on Sunday morn ; 
Still do 1 love the gentle sex. 
And still with cares my brain perplex, 



THE POLISH OF THE TOWN. 119 

To keep the fair ones of the age 
Unsullied as the spotless page ; 
All pure, all simple, all refined, 
The sweetest solace of mankind. 
I hate the loose insidious jest 
To beauty's modest ear addrest, 
And hold that frowns should never fail 
To check each smooth, but fulsome tale ; 
But he whose impious pen should dare 
Invade the morals of the fair ; 
To taint that purity divine 
Which should each female heart enshrine ; 
Though soft his vicious strains should swell, 
As those which erst from Gabriel fell, 
Should yet be held aloft to shame, 
And foul dishonor shade his name. 
Judge then, my friends, of my surprise, 
The ire that kindled in my eyes, 
When I relate, that t'other day 
I went a morning call to pay, 
On two young nieces, just come down 
To take the polish of the town : 
By which I mean no more or less 
Than a la Frangaise to undress ; 
To whirl the modest waltz's rounds. 
Taught by Duport for snug ten pounds ; 
To thump and thunder through a song, 
Play fortes soft and dolces strong : 
Exhibit loud piano feats. 
Caught from that crotchet-hero, Meetz ; 
To drive the rose-bloom from the face, 
And fix the lily in its place ; 
To doff the white, and in its stead 



120 SALMAGUNDI. 

To bounce about in brazen red. 

While in the parlor I delay 'd 
Till they their persons had array 'd, 
A dapper volume caught my eye, 
That on the window chanced to lie : 
A book's a friend — I always choose 
To turn its pages and peruse ; 
It proved those poems known to fame 
For praising every cyprian dame ; 
The bantlings of a dapper youth, 
Kenown'd for gratitude and truth ; 
A little pest, hight Tommy Moore, 
Who hopp'd and skipp'd our country o'er> 
Who sipp'd our tea and lived on sops, 
Revel'd on syllabubs and slops. 
And when his brain, of cobweb fine. 
Was fuddled with five drops of wine, 
Would all his puny loves rehearse. 
And many a maid debauch — in verse. 
Surprised to meet in open view, 
A book of such lascivious hue, 
I chid my nieces, but they say 
'Tis all the passion of the day ; 
That many a fashionable belle 
Will with eiuaptured accents dwell 
On the sweet morceau she has found 
In this delicious, curst compound ! 

Soft do the tinklinor numbers roll, 
An<l lure to vice the unthinking soul; 
They tempt by softer sounds away, 
They lead entranced the heart astray ; 
And Satan's doctrine sweetly sing, 
As with a seraph's heavenly string. 



I 



TOMMY MOORE. 121 

Such sounds, so good old Homer sung, 
Once warbled from the Siren's tongue ; 
Sweet melting tones were heard to pour 
Along Ausonia's sun-gilt shore ; 
Seductive strains in ether float, 
And every wild, deceitful note 
That could the yielding iieart assail, 
Were wafted on tlie breathing gale; 
And every gentle accent bland, 
To tempt Ulysses to their strand. 

And can it be this book so base, 
Is laid on every window-case ? , 

O ! fair ones, if you will profane 
Those breasts where heaven itself should reign ; 
And throw those pure recesses wide. 
Where peace and virtue should reside, 
To let the holy pile admit 
A guest unhallowed and unfit ; 
Pray, like the frail ones of the night, 
Who hide their wanderings from the light, 
So let your errors secret be, 
And hide, at least, your fault from me; 
Seek some by-corner to explore 
The smooth polluted pages o'er : 
There drink the insidious poison io, 
There silly nurse your souls for sin ; 
And while that purity you blight, 
Which stamps you messengers of light. 
And sap those mounds the gods bestow, 
To keep you spotless here below ; 
Still, in compassion to our race, 
Who joy, not only in the face, 
But in that more exalted part, 



122 



SALMAGUNDI. 



The sacred temple of the heart ; 

O ! hide forever from our view 

The fatal mischief you pursue ; 

Let MEN your praises still exalt, 

And none but angels mourn your fault. 





NO. VI. — FRIDAY, MARCH 20, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOAV-CHAIR. 

HE Cockloft family, of which I have 
made such frequent mention, is of great 
antiquity, if there be any truth in the 
genealogical tree which hangs up in my cousin's 
library. They trace their descent from a cele- 
brated Roman knight, cousin to the progenitor 
of his majesty of Britain, who left his native 
country on occasion of some disgust, and coming 
into Wales, became a great favorite of Prince 
Madoc, and accompanied that famous Argonaut 
in the voyage which ended in the discovery of 
this conthient. Though a member of the family, 
I have sometimes ventured to doubt the authen- 
ticity of this portion of their annals, to the great 
vexation of cousin Christopher, who is looked up 
to as the head of our house, and who, though as 
orthodox as a bishop, would sooner give up the 
whole decalogue than lop off a single limb of the 
family tree. From time immemorial, it has been 
the rule for the Cocklofts to marry one of their 
own name ; and, as they always bred like rabbits, 
the family has increased and multiplied like that 
of Adam and Eve. In truth, their number is 
almost incredible ; and you can hardly go into 



124 SALMAGUNDI. 

any part of the country without starting a war- 
ren of genuine Cocklofts. Every person of the 
least observation or experience must have ob- 
served that where this practice of marrying cous- 
ins, and second cousins, prevails in a family, 
every member, in the course of a few generations, 
becomes queer, humorous, and original ; as much 
distinguished from the common race of mongrels 
as if he was of a diffei'ent species. This has 
happened in our family, and particularly in that 
branch of it of which Mr. Cin-istopher Cockloft, 
or, to do him justice, Mr. Christopher Cockloft, 
Esq., is the head. Christopher is, in fact, the 
only married man of the nanie who resides in 
town ; his family is small, having lost most of his 
children, when young, by the excessive care he 
took to bring them up like vegetables. This was 
one of his first whimwhams, and a confounded 
one it was, as his children might have told, had 
they not fallen victims to this experiment before 
they could talk. He had got from some quack 
philosopher or other a notion that there was a 
complete analogy between children and plants, 
and that they ought to be both reared alike. 
Accordingly he spi-inkled them every morning 
with water; laid them out in the sun, as he did 
his geraniums ; and, if the season was remarkably 
dry, repeated this wise experiment three or four 
times of a morning. The consequence was, that 
the poor little souls died one after the other, ex- 
cept Jeremy and his two sisters ; who, to be sure, 
are a trio of as odd, runty, mummy-looking 
orijiinals as ever Iloijarth fancied in his most 



MRS. COCKLOFT. 125 

happy moments. Mrs. Cockloft, the larger if 
not the better half of my cousin, often remon- 
strated against this vegetable theory ; and even 
brought the parson of the parish, in which my 
cousin's country liouse is situated, to her aid ; but 
in vain : Christopher persisted, and attributed the 
failure of his plan to its not having been exactly 
conformed to. As I have mentioned Mrs. Cock- 
loft, I may as well say a little more about her 
while I am in the humor. She is a lady of 
vronderful notability, a warm admirer of shining 
mahogany, clean hearths, and her husband, who 
she considers the wisest man in the world, bating 
Will Wizard and the parson of our parish, the 
last of whom is her oracle on all occasions. She 
goes constantly to church every Sunday and 
Saint's-day ; and insists upon it that no man is 
entitled to ascend a pulpit unless he has been or- 
dained by a bishop : nay, so far does she carry 
her orthodoxy, that all the argument in the world 
will never persuade Iter that a Presbyterian or 
Baptist, or even a Calvinist, has any possible 
ciiance of going to Heaven. Above everything 
else, however, she abhors paganism ; can scarcely 
refrain from laying violent hands on a pantheon 
when she meets with it ; and was very nigh 
going into hysterics when my cousin insisted one 
of his boys should be christened after our lau- 
reate, because the parson of the parish had told 
her that Pindar was the name of a pagan writer, 
famous for his love of boxing-matches, wrestling, 
and horse-racing. To sum up all her qualifica- 
tions in the shortest possible way, Mrs. Cockloft 



126 SALMAGUNDI. 

is, in the true sense of the phrase, a good sort 
of woman ; and I often congratulate my cousin 
on possessing her. The rest of the family con- 
sists of Jeremy Cockloft, the younger, who has 
already been mentioned, and the two Miss Cock- 
lofts, or rather the young ladies, as they iiave 
been called by the servants time out of mind ; 
not that they {ire really young, the younger being 
somewhat on the shady side of thirty, but it has 
ever been the custom to call every member of 
the family young under fifty. In the southeast 
corner of the house I hold quiet possession of 
an old-fashioned apartment, where myself and 
my elbow-chair are suffered to amuse ourselves 
undisturbed, save at meal-times. This apartment 
old Cockloft has facetiously denominated Cousin 
Launce's Paradise ; and the good old gentleman 
has two or three favorite jokes about it, which 
are served up as regularly as the standing family 
dish of beef-steaks and onions, which every day 
maintains its station at the foot of the table, in 
defiance of mutton, poultry, or even venison 
itself. 

Though the family is apparently small, yet, 
like most old establishments of the kind, it does 
not want for honorary members. It is the city 
rendezvous of the Cocklofts ; and we are con- 
tinually enlivened by the company of half a score 
of uncles, aunts, and cousins, in the fortieth re- 
move, from all parts of the country, who profess 
a wonderful regard for Cousin Christopher, and 
overwhelm every member of his household, down 
to the cook in the kitchen, with their attentions. 



COUNTRY COUSINS. 127 

We have for three weeks past been greeted with 
the company of two worthy old spinsters, who 
came down from the country to settle a lawsuit. 
They have done little else but retail stories of 
their village neighbors, knit stockings, and take 
snuff all the time they have been here ; the 
whole fiimily are bewildered with churchyard 
tales of sheeted ghosts, white horses without 
heads, and with large goggle eyes in their but- 
tocks ; and not one of the old servants dare 
budge an inch after dark without a numerous 
company at his heels. My cousin's visitors, how- 
ever, always return his hospitality with due grati- 
tude, and now and then remind him of their fra- 
ternal regard, by a present of a pot of apple 
sweetmeats, or a bariel of sour cider at Christ- 
mas. Jeremy displays himself to great advan- 
tage among his country relations, who all think 
him a prodigy, and often stand astounded, in 
"gaping wonderment," at his natural philosophy. 
He lately frightened a sinjple old uncle almost 
out of his wits, by giving it as his opinion that 
the earth would one day be scorched to ashes by 
the eccentric gambols of the famous comet, so 
much talked of; and positively asserted that this 
world revolved round the sun, and that the moon 
was certainly inhabited. 

The family mansion bears equal marks of 
antiquity with its inhabitants. As the Cocklofts 
are remarkable for their attachment to everything 
that has remained long in the family, they are 
bigoted toward their old edifice, and I dare say 
would sooner have it crumble about their ears 



]28 SALMAGUNDI. 

than abandon it. The consequence is, it has 
been so patched up and repaired, that it has be- 
come as full of whims and oddities as its tenants; 
requires to be nursed and humored like a gouty 
old codcrer of an alderman, and reminds one of 
the famous ship in which a certain admiral cir- 
cumnavigated the globe, which was so patched 
and timbered, in order to preserve so great a 
curiosity, that ai length not a particle of the 
orisinal remained. Whenever the wind blows, 
the old mansion makes a most perilous groaning ; 
and every storm is sure to make a day's work 
for the carpenter, who attends upon it as regu- 
larly as the family physician. This predilection 
for everything that has been long in the family 
shows itself in every particular. The domestics 
are all grown gray in the service of our house. 
We have a little, old, crusty, gray-headed negro, 
who has lived through two or thi-ee generations 
of the Cocklofts, and of course has become a 
personage of no little importance in the house- 
hold. He calls all the family by their Christian 
names : tells long stories about how he dandled 
them on his knee when they were children ; and 
is a complete Cockloft chronicle for the last sev- 
enty years. The family carriage was made in 
the last French war, and the old horses were 
most indubitably foaled in Noah's ark : resem- 
bling marvelously, in gravity of demeanor, those 
sober animals which may be seen any day of the 
year in the streets of Philadelphia walking their 
snail's pace, a dozen in a row, and harmoniously 
iinc'lino^ their bells. Whirawhams are the in- 



WHIM WHAMS. 129 

heritance of the Cocklofts, and every member of 
the household is a humorist sui generis^ from the 
master down to the footman. The very cats and 
dogs are humorists ; and we have a little runty 
scoundrel of a cur, who whenever the church 
bells ring, will run to the street door, turn up his 
nose in the wind, and howl most piteously. 
Jeremy insists that this is owing to a peculiar 
delicacy in the organization of his ears, and sup- 
ports his position by many learned arguments 
which nobody can understand ; but I am of opin- 
ion that it is a mere Cockloft whimwham, which 
the little cur indulges, being descended from a 
race of dogs which has flourished in the family 
ever since the time of my grandfather. A pro- 
pensity to save everything that bears the stamp 
of family antiquity has accumulated an abun- 
dance of trumpery and rubbish with which the 
house is encumbei-ed from the cellar to the gar- 
ret ; and every room, and closet, and corner is 
crammed with three-legged chairs, clocks without 
hands, swords without scabbards, cocked hats, 
broken candlesticks, and looking-glasses with 
frames carved into fantastic shapes of feathered 
sheep, woolly birds, and other animals that have 
no name except in books of heraldry. The pon- 
derous mahogany chairs in the parlors are of 
such unwieldy proportions that it is quite a 
serious undertaking to gallant one of them across 
the room, and sometimes make a most equivocal 
noise when you sit down in a hurry; the mantel- 
piece is decorated witii little lacquered earthen 

shepherdesses, some of which are without toes, 
9 



130 SALMAGUNDI. 

and others without noses ; and the fire-place is 
garnished out with Dutch tiles, exhibiting a great 
variety of Scripture pieces, which my good old 
soul of a cousin takes infinite delight in explain- 
ing. Poor Jeremy hates them as lie does poi- 
son ; for, while a younker, he was obliged by 
his mother to learn the history of a tile every 
Sunday morning before she would permit him to 
join his playmates ; this was a terrible affair for 
Jeremy, who, by the time he had learned the last, 
had forgotten the first, rvnd was obliged to begin 
again. He assured me the other day, with a 
round college oath, that if the old house stood 
out till he inherited it, he would have these tilea 
taken out, and ground into powder, for the per- 
fect hatred he bore them. 

My cousin Christopher enjoys unlimited au- 
thority in the mansion of his forefathers ; he is 
truly what may be termed a hearty old blade ; 
has a florid, sunshine countenance ; and if you 
will only praise his wine and laugh at his long 
stories, himself and his house are heartily at your 
service. The first condition is indeed easily com- 
plied with ; for, to tell the truth, his wine is ex- 
cellent ; but his stories, being not of the best, and 
often repeated, are apt to create a disposition to 
yawn — being, in addition to their other qualities, 
most unreasonably long. His prolixity is the 
more afflicting to me, since I have all his stories 
by heart ; and when he enters upon one, it re- 
minds me of Newark causeway, where the trav- 
eller sees the end at the distance of several 
miles. To the great misfortune of all his ac- 



nOSPITALITY. 131 

quaintance, Cousin Cockloft is blest with a most 
provokingly retentive memory ; and can give day 
and date, and name, and age, and circumstance, 
with the most unfeeling precision. These, how- 
ever, are but trivial foibles, forgotten, or remem- 
bered only with a kind of tender, respectful pity, 
by those who know witli what a rich, redundant 
harvest of kindness and generosity his heart is 
stored. It would delight you to see with what 
social gladness he welcomes a visitor into his 
house ; and the poorest man that enters his door 
never leaves it without a cordial invitation to 
sit down, and drink a glass of wine. By the 
honest farmers round his country-seat he is looked 
up to with love and reverence ; they never pass 
bim by without his inquiring after the welfare of 
their families, and receiving a cordial shake of 
his liberal hand. There are but two classes of 
people who are thrown out of the reach of his 
hospitality, and these are Frenchmen and Demo- 
crats. The old gentleman considers it treason 
against the majesty of good breeding to speak to 
any visitor with his hat on ; but the moment a 
Democrat enters his door, he forthwith bids his 
man Pompey bring his hat, puts It on his head, 
and salutes him with an appalling " Well, sir, 
what do you want of me ? " 

He has a profound contempt for Frenchmen, 
and firmly believes that thev eat nothing but frogs 
and soupe-maigre in their own country. This 
unlucky prejudice is partly owing to my great- 
aunt Pamela having been many years ago run 
away with by a French count, who turned out to 



132 SALMAGUNDI. 

be the son of a generation of barbers ; and partly 
to a little vivid spark of toryism which burns hi 
a secret corner of his heart. He was a loyal 
subject of the crown, has hardly yet recovered 
the shock of independence ; and, though he does 
not care to own it, always does honor to his 
majesty's birthday, by inviting a few cavaliers, 
like himself, to dinner, and gracing his table with 
more than ordinaiy festivity. If by chance the 
Revolution is mentioned before him, my cousin 
shakes his head ; and you may see, if you take 
good note, a lurking smile of contempt in the cor- 
ner of his eye which marks a decided disappro- 
bation of the sound. He once, in the fullness of 
his heart, observed to me that green peas were a 
month later than they were under the old govern- 
ment. But the most eccentric manifestation of 
loyalty he ever gave was making a voyage to 
Halifax for no other reason under heaven but to 
hear his majesty prayed for in church, as he used 
to be here formerly. This he never could be 
brought fairly to acknowledge ; but it is a certain 
fact, I assure you. It is not a little singular that 
a person so much given to long story-telling as 
my cousin, should take a liking to another of the 
same character ; but so it is with the old gentle- 
man. His prime favorite and companion is Will 
Wizard, who is almost a member of the family ; 
and will sit before the fire, with his feet on the 
massy andirons, and smoke his cigar, and screw 
his phiz, and spin away tremendous long stories 
of his travels, for a whole evening, to the great 
delight of the old gentleman and lady, and espe- 



COCKLOFT LADIES. 133 

cially of the young ladies, who, like Desdemona, 
do " seriously incline," and listen to him with in- 
numerable " dears," " Is it possibles," " Goody 
graciouses," and look upon him as a second Sinba^i 
the sailor. 

The Misses Cockloft, whose pardon I crave for 
not having particularly introduced them before, 
are a pair of delectable damsels, who, having pur- 
loined and locked up the family Bible, pass for 
just what age they please to plead guilty to. 
Barbara, the eldest, has long since I'esigned the 
character of a belle, and adopted that staid, sober, 
demure, snuff-taking air becoming her years and 
discretion. She is a good-natured soul, whom I 
never saw in a passion but once, and that was oc- 
casioned by seeing an old favorite beau of hers 
kiss the hand of a pretty, blooming girl ; and, in 
truth, she only got angry because, as she very 
properly said, it was spoiling the child. Her 
sister Margery, or Maggie, as she is familiarly 
termed, seemed disposed to maintain her post as 
a belle, until a few months since ; when acciden- 
tally hearing a gentleman observe that she broke 
very fast, she suddenly left off going to the as- 
sembly, took a cat into high favor, and began to 
rail at the* forward pertness of young misses. 
From that moment I set her down for an old 
maid ; and so she is, " by the hand of my body." 
The young ladies are still visited by some half 
dozen of veteran beaux, who grew and flourished 
in the haul ton, when the Miss Cocklofts were 
quite children ; but have been brushed rather 
rudely by the hand of time, who, to say the truth, 



134 SALMAGUNDI. 

can do almost anything but make people young. 
They are, notwithstandhig, still warm candidates 
for female favor; look venerably tender, and re- 
peat over and over the same honeyed speeches 
and sugared sentiments to the little belles that 
they poured so profusely into the ears of their 
mothers. I beg leave here to give notice that by 
this sketch I mean no reflection on old bachelors ; 
on the contrary, I hold that next to a fine lady, 
the ne plus ultra^ an old bachelor to be the most 
charming being upon earth ; inasmuch as by liv- 
ing in " single blessedness," he of course does 
just as he pleases ; and if he has any genius, 
must acquire a plentiful stock of whims, and od- 
dities, and whalebone habits ; without which I 
esteem a man to be mere beef without mustard — 
good for nothing at all but to run on errands for 
ladies, take boxes at the theatre, and act the part 
of a screen at tea-parties, or a walking-stick in 
the streets. I merely speak of these old boys 
who infest public walks, pounce upon ladies from 
every corner of the street, and worry, and frisk, 
and amble, and caper before, behind, and round 
about the fashionable belles, like old ponies in a 
pasture, striving to supply the absence of youth- 
ful whim and hilarity, by grimaces and grins, and 
artificial vivacity. I have sometimes seen one of 
these " reverend youths " endeavoring to elevate 
his wintry passions into something like love, by 
basking in the sunshine of beauty ; and it did re- 
mind me of an old moth, attempting to fly through 
a pane of glass toward a light, without ever ap- 
proaching near enough to warm itself, or scorch 
its wings. 



FAMILY SYMPATHY. 135 

Never, I firmly believe, did there exist a fam- 
ily that went more by tangents than the Cocklofts. 
Everything is governed by whim ; and if one 
member starts a new freak, away all the rest fol- 
low on like wild geese in a string. As the fanii- 
, ly, the servants, the horses, cats, and dogs have 
all grown old together, they have accommodated 
themselves to each other's habits completely ; 
and though every body of them is full of odd 
points, angles, rhomboids, and ins and outs, yet 
some how or other they harmonize together like 
so many straight lines; and it is truly a grateful 
and refreshing; sight to see them agree so well. 
Should one, however, get out of tune, it is like 
a cracked fiddle, the whole concern is ajar ; you 
perceive a cloud over every brow in the house 
and even the old cliairs seem to creak, affetuoso. 
If my cousin, as he is rather apt to do, betray 
any symptoms of vexation or uneasiness, no mat- 
ter about what, he is worried to death with in- 
quiries, which answer no other end but to demon- 
strate the good will of the inquirer, and put him 
in a passion ; for everybody knows how provok- 
ing it is to be cut short in a fit of the blues, 
by an impertinent question about '' what is the 
matter ? " when a man can't tell himself. I 
remember a few months ago the old gentleman 
came home in quite a squall ; kicked poor CaevSar 
the mastiff, out of his way, as he came through 
the hall, threw his hat on the table with most 
violent emphasis, and pulling out his box, took 
three huge pinches of snuff, and threw a fourth 
into the cat's eyes as he sat purring his astonish 



136 SALMAGUNDI. 

ment at the fireside. This was enough to set 
the body politic going ; Mrs. Cockloft began 
" my dearing " it as fast as tongue could move ; 
the young ladies took each a stand jit an elbow of 
his chair ; Jeremy marshaled in the rear ; the 
servants came tumbling in ; the mastiff put up an 
inquiring nose ; and even grimalkin, after he had 
cleaned his whiskers and finished sneezing, dis- 
covered indubitable signs of sympathy. After 
the most affectionate inquiries on all sides, it 
turned out that my cousin, in crossing the street, 
had got his silk stockings bespattered with mud 
by a coach, which, it seems, belonged to a dashing 
gentleman who had formerly supplied the fami- 
ly with hot rolls and muffins ! Mrs. Cockloft 
thereupon turned up her eyes, and the young 
ladies their noses ; and it would have edified a 
whole congregation to hear the conversation 
which took place concerning the insolence of up- 
starts, and the vulgarity of would-be gentlemen 
and ladies, who strive to emerge from low life 
by dashing about in carriages to pay a visit two 
doors off; giving parties to people who laugh at 
them, and cutting all their old friends. 



THEATRICS. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 



I WENT a few evenings since to the theatre, 
accompanied by my friend 'Sbidlikens, the 
cockney, who is a man deeply read in the history 



THEATRICS. 137 

of Cinderella, Valentine and Orson, Blue Beard, 
and all those recondite works so necessary to en- 
able a man to understand the modern drama. 
"Sbidlikens is one of those intolerable fellows who 
Avill never be pleased with anything until he has 
turned and twisted it divers ways, to see if it 
eoiresponds with his notions of congruity ; and as 
he is none of the quickest in his ratiocinations, he 
will f^ometimes come out with his approbation, 
when everybody else has forgotten the cause 
which excited it. 'Sbidlikens is, moreover, a 
great critic, for he finds fault with everything ; 
this being what I understand by modern criti- 
cism. He, however, is pleased to acknowledge 
that our theatre is not so despicable, all things 
considered ; and really thinks Cooper one of our 
best actors. The play was " Othello '* and to 
speak my mind freely, I think I have seen it 
performed much woise in my time. The actors, 
I firmly believe, did their best ; and whenever 
this is the case, no man has a right to find fault 
with them, in my opinion. -Little Rutherford, the 
Roscius of the Philadelphia theatre, looked as 
big as possible ; and what he wanted in size he 
made up in frowning. I like frowning in trag- 
edy ; and if a man but keeps his forehead in 
proper wrinkle, talks big, and takes long strides 
on the stage, I always set him down as a great 
tragedian ; and so does my friend 'Sbidlikens. 

Before the first act was over, 'Sbidlikens began 
to flouiish his critical wooden sword like a har- 
lequin. He first found fault with Cooper for not 
having made himself as black as a negro, " for,'* 



138 SALMAGUNDI. 

said he, " that Othello was an arrant black, ap- 
pears from several expressions of the play ; as 
for instance, ' thick lips,' ' sooty bosom,' and a 
variety of others. I am inclined to think," con- 
tinned he, '' that Othello was an Egyptian by 
birth, from the circumstance of the handkerchief 
given to Iiis mother by a native of that country ; 
and, if so, he certainly was as black as my hat ; 
fi)r Herodotus has told us, that the Egyptians had 
flat noses and frizzled hair — a clear proof that 
they were all negroes." He did not confine his 
strictures to this single error of the actor, but 
went on to run him down in toto. In this he 
was seconded by a red-hot Philadelphian, who 
proved by a string of most eloquent logical puns, 
that Fennel was unquestionably in every respect 
a better actor than Cooper. I knew it was in 
vain to contend with tliem, since I recollected a 
most obstinate trial of skill these two great Roscii 
had last spring in Philadelphia. C )oper bran- 
dished his blood-stained dagger at the theatre — 
Fennel flourished his snuff-box and shook his 
wig at the Lyceum, and the unfortunate Phil- 
adelpliians were a long time at a loss to decide 
which deserved the palm. The literati were in- 
clined to give it to Cooper, because his name was 
the most fruitful in puns ; but then, on the other 
side, it was contended that Fennel was the best 
Greek scholar. Scarcely was the town of Stras- 
burgh in a greater hubbub about the courteous 
stranger's nose ; and it was well that the doctors 
of the University did not get into the dispute, 
else it might have become a battle of folios. At 



COCKNEY CRITICISM. 139 

length, after much excellent argument had been 
expended on both sides, recourse was had to 
Cocker's Arithmetic and a carpenter's rule ; the 
rival candidates were both measured by one of 
their most steady-handed critics, and by the most 
exact measurement it was proved that Mr. Fen- 
nel was the greater actor by three inches and a 
quarter. Since this demonstration of inferiority, 
Cooper has never been able to hold up his head 
in Philadelphia. 

In order to change a conversation in which 
my favorite suffered so much, I made some in- 
quiries of the Philadelphian concerning the two 
heroes of his theatre, Wood and Cain ; but I had 
scarcely mentioned their names, when, whack ! 
he threw a whole handful of puns in my face ; 
'twas like a bowl of cold water. I turned on 
my heel, had recourse to my tobacco-box, and 
said no more about Wood and Cain ; nor will I 
ever more, if I can help it, mention their names 
in the presence of a Philadelphian. Would that 
they could leave off punning ! for I love every 
soul of them, with a cordial affection, warm as 
their own generous hearts, and boundless as their 
hospitality. 

During the performance, I kept an eye on the 
countenance of my friend, the cockney ; because, 
liaving come all the way from England, and 
having seen Kemble once, on a visit which he 
made from the button-manufactory to Lunnun^ 
I thought his phiz might serve .as a kind of 
thermometer to direct my manifestations of ap 
[►lause or disapprobation. I might as well have 



140 SALMAGUNDI. 

looked at the back side of his head ; for I could 
not, with all my peering, perceive by his features 
that he was pleased with anything — except him- 
self. His hat was twitched a little on one side, 
as much as to say, " Demme, I'm your sorts ! " 
he was sucking the end of a little stick ; he was 
a " gemman " from head to foot ; but as to his 
face, there was no more expression in it than in 
the face of a Chinese lady on a tea-cup. On 
Cooper's giving one of his gunpowder explosions 
of passion, I exclaimed, " Fine, very fine ! '* 
" Pardon me," said my friend 'Sbid likens, " this 
is damnable! — the gesture, my dear sir — only 
look at the gesture ! how horrible ! do you not 
observe that the actor slaps his forehead, whereas, 
the passion not having arrived at the proper 
height, he should only liave slapped his — pocket- 
flap ? this figure of rlietoric is a most important 
stage-trick, and the proper management of it is 
what peculiarly distinguishes the great actor from 
the mere plodding mechanical buffoon. Differ- 
ent degrees of passion require different slaps, 
which we critics have reduced to a perfect man- 
ual, improving upon the principle adopted by 
Frederic of Prussia, by deciding that an actor, 
like a soldier, is a mere machine; as thus — the 
actor, for a minor burst of passion, merely slaps 
his pocket- hole ; good ! for a major burst, he 
slaps his breast ; very good ! but for a burst 
maximus, he whacks away at his fbi'ehead, like a 
brave fellow; this is excellent; nothing can be 
finer than an exit, slapping the forehead from one 
end of the stage to the other." '' Except," re- 



COCKNEY CRITICISM. 141 

plied I, " one of those slaps on the breast, which 
I have sometimes admired in some of our fat 
heroes and heroines, which make their whole 
body shake and quiver like a pyramid of jelly." 

The Philadelphian had listened to this conver- 
sation with profound attention, and appeared de- 
lighted with 'Sbidlikens' mechanical strictures; 
'twas natural enough in a man who chose an 
actor as he would a grenadier. He took the 
opportunity of a pause to enter into a long con- 
versation with my friend ; and was receiving a 
prodigious fund of information concerning the 
true mode of emphasizing conjunctions, shifting 
scenes, snuffing candles, and making thunder and 
lightning, better than you can get every day 
from the sky, as practiced at the royal theatres ; 
when, as ill luck would have it, they happened 
to run their heads full butt against a new read- 
ing. Now this was " a stumper," as our old 
friend Paddle would say ; for the Philadelphians 
are as inveterate new-reading hunters as the 
cockneys ; and, for aught I know, as well skilled 
in finding them out. The Philadelphian there- 
upon met the cockney on his own ground, and at 
it they went, like two inveterate curs at a bone. 
'Sbidlikens quoted Theobald, Hanmer, and a host 
of learned commentators, who have pinned them- 
selves on the sleeve of Shakespeare's immortal- 
ity, and made the old bard, like General Wash- 
ington, in General Washington's life, a most 
diminutive figure in his own book ; his opponent 
chose Johnson for his bottle-holder, and thundered 
him forward like an elephant to bear down the 



142 SALMAGUNDI. 

ranks of the enemy. I was not long in discover- 
ing that these two precious judges had got hold 
of that unlucky passage of Shakespeare which, 
like a straw, has tickled, and puzzled, and con- 
founded many a somniferous buzzard of past and 
present time. It was tlie celebrated wish of 
Desdemona, that heaven had made her such a 
man as Othello. 'Sbidlikens insisted that " the 
gentle Desdemona " merely wished for such a 
man for a husband, which in all conscience was 
a modest wish enough, and very natural in a 
young lady who might possibly have had a predi- 
lection for flat noses ; like a certain philosophical 
great man of our day. The Philadelphian con- 
tended, witli all the vehemence of a member of 
Congress, moving the House to have " whereas,'* 
or '' also," or " nevertheless " struck out of a bill, 
that the young lady wished heaven had made 
her a man instead of a woman, in order that she 
might have an opportunity of seeing the " an- 
thropophagi, and the men whose heads do grow 
beneath their shoulders ; " which was a very 
natural wish, considering the curiosity of the sex. 
^On being referred to, I incontinently decided in 
favor of the honorable member who spoke last ; 
inasmuch as I think it was a very foolish, and 
therefore very natural, wish for a young lady to 
make before a man she wished to marry. It 
was, moreover, an indication of the violent in- 
clination slie felt to wear the breeches, which 
was afterward, in all probability, gratified, if we 
may judge from the title of "our captain's cap- 
tain," given her by Cassio — a phrase which, in 



NATURAL ACTING. 143 

my opinion, indicates that Othello was, at that 
time, most ignominiously lienpecked. I believe 
my arguments staggered 'Sbidlikens himself, for 
he looked confoundedly queer, and said not an- 
other word on the subject. 

A little while after, at it he went again on 
another tack, and began to find fault with Cooper's 
manner of dying ; " it was not natural," he said ; 
for it had lately been demonstrated by a learned 
doctor of physic, that when a man is mortally 
stabbed, he ought to take a flying leap of at least 
five feet, and drop down "dead as a salmon in a 
fishmonger's basket." Whenever a man, in the 
predicament above mentioned, departed from this 
fundamental rule, by falling flat down like a log, 
and rolling about for two or three minutes, mak- 
ing speeches all the time, the said learned doctor 
maintained that it was owing to the waywardness 
of the human mind, which delighted in flying in 
the face of nature, and dying in defiance of all 
her established rules. I replied, " for my part I 
held that every man had a right of dying in 
whatever position he pleased ; and that the mode 
of doing it depended altogether on the peculiar 
character of the person going to die. A Persian 
could not die in peace unless he had his face 
turned to the east ; a Mahometan would ahvays 
choose to have his toward Mecca ; a Frenchman 
might prefer this mode of throwing a somerset ; 
but Mynheer Van Brumblebottom, the Roscius 
of Rotterdam, always chose to thunder down on 
his seat of honor whenever he received a mortal 
wound. Being a man of ponderous dimensions, 



144 SALMAGUNDI. 

this had a most electrifying effect, for the whole 
theatre ' shook like Ol^'inpiis at the nod of 
Jove.' " The Philadelphiaii was immediately 
inspired with a pun, and swore tliat Mynheer 
must be great in a dying scene, since he knew 
how to make the most of his latter end. 

It is the inveterate cry of stage critics, that 
an actor does not perform the character naturally, 
if, by chance, he happens not to die exactly as 
they would have him. I think the exhibition of 
a play at Pekin would suit them exactly ; and I 
wish, with all my heart, that they would go there 
and see one ; nature is there imitated with the 
most scrupulous exactness in every trifling partic- 
ular. Here an unhappy lady or gentleman, who 
happens, unluckily, to be poisoned or stabbed, is 
left on the stage to writhe and groan, and make 
faces at the audience, until the poet pleases they 
should die ; while the honest folks of the drama- 
tis pei'soncB, bless their hearts ! all crowd round 
and yield most potent assistance, by crying and 
lamenting most vociferously ! The audience, ten- 
der souls, pull out their white pocket-handker- 
chiefs, wipe their eyes, blow their noses,.„and 
swear it is natural as life, wiule the poor actor is 
left to die without common Christian comfort. 
In China, on the contrary, the first thing they do 
is to run for the doctor and tchoouc, or notary. 
The audience are entertained throughout the fifth 
act with a learned consultation of physicians, and 
if the patient must die, he does it secundum artem^ 
and always is allowed time to make his will. 
The celebrated Chow-Chow wtis the completest 



CHOW-CHOW. 145 

baud I ever saw at killing himself; he always 
carried under his robe a bladder of bull's blood, 
which, when he gave the mortal stab, spirted out 
to the infinite delight of the audience. Not that 
the ladies of China are more fond of the sight of 
blood than those of our own country ; on the con- 
trary, they are remarkably sensitive in this par- 
ticular ; and we are told by the great Linkum 
Fidelius, that the beautiful Ninny Consequa, one 
of the ladies of the emperor's seraglio, once 
fainted away on seeing a favorite slave's nose 
bleed ; since which time, refinement has been car- 
ried to such a pitch that a buskined hero is not 
allowed to run himself througii the body in the 
face of the audience. The immortal Chow-Chow, 
in conformity to this absurd prejudice, whenever 
he plays the part of Othello, which is reckoned 
his masterpiece, always keeps a bold front, stabs 
himself slyly behind, and is dead before anybody 
suspects that he has given the mortal blow. 

P. S. — Just as this was going to press, I was 
informed by Evergreen that Othello had not been 
performed here the Lord knows when ; no matter, 
I am not the first that has criticised a play with- 
out seeing it, and this critique will answer for the 
last performance, if that was a dozen years ago. 

10 




NO. VIL— SATURDAY, APRIL 4, 4807. 

LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELl 
KHAN, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE- 
DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF 
TRIPOLI. 

PROMISED in a former letter, good 
Asem, that I would furnish thee with a 
few hints respecting the nature of the 
government by which I am held in durance. 
Though my inquiries for that purpose have been 
industrious, yet I am not perfectly satisfied with 
their results ; for thou mayst easily imagine that 
the vision of a captive is overshadowed by the 
mists of illusion and prejudice, and the horizon 
of his speculations must be limited indeed. I 
find that the people of this country are strangely 
at a loss to determine the nature and proper char- 
acter of their government. Even their dervises 
are extremely in the dark as to this particular, 
and are continually indulging in the most prepos- 
terous disquisitions on the subject ; some have in- 
sisted that it savors of an aristocracy ; others 
maintain that it is a pure democracy ; and a third 
set of theorists declare absolutely that it is noth- 
ing more or less than a mobocracy. The latter, 
I must confess, though still wide in error, have 
come nearest to the truth. You of course must 



OF GOVERNMENT. 147 

understand the meaumg of these different words, 
as they are derived from the ancient Greek lan- 
guage, and bespeak loudly the verbal poverty of 
these poor infidels, who cannot utter a learned 
phrase without laying the dead languages under 
contribution. A man, my dear Asem, who talks 
good sense in his native tongue, is held in toler- 
able estimation in this country ; but a fool, who 
clothes his feeble ideas in a foreign or antique 
gai'b, is bowed down to as a literary prodigy. 
While I conversed with these people in plain 
English, I was but little attended to; but the 
moment I prosed away in Greek, every one 
looked up to me with veneration as an oracle. 

Although the dervises differ widely in the par- 
ticulars above mentioned, yet they all agree in 
terming their government one of the most pacific 
in the known world. I cannot help pitying their 
ignorance, and smiling, at times, to see into what 
ridiculous errors those nations will wander, who 
are unenlightened by the precepts of Mahomet, 
our divine prophet, and uninstructed by the five 
hundred and forty-nine books of wisdom of the 
immortal Ibrahim Hassan al Fusti. To call this 
nation pacific ! Most preposterous ! it reminds 
me of the title assumed by the sheik of that mur- 
derous tribe of wild Arabs, that desolate the val- 
leys of Belsaden, who styles himself " Star of 
Courtesy — Beam of the Mercy- Seat." 

The simple truth of the matter is, that these 
people are totally ignorant of their own true 
character ; for, according to the best of my obser- 
vation, they are the most warlike, and I must 



148 SALMAGUNDI 

say, the most savage nation that I have as yet 
discovered among all the barbai-ians. They are 
not only at war, in their own way, with almost 
every nation on earth, but they are at the same 
time engaged in the most complicated knot of 
civil wars that ever infested any poor unhappy 
country on which Allah has denounced his male- 
diction ! 

To let thee at once into a secret, which is un- 
known to these people themselves, their govern- 
ment is a pure unadulterated logocracy^ or gov- 
ernment of words. The whole nation does every- 
thing viva voce, or by word of mouth ; and in this 
manner is one of the most military nations in 
existence. Every man who has what is here 
called the gift of the gab, that is, a plentiful stock 
of verbosity, becomes a soldier outright ; and is 
forever in a militant state. The country is en- 
tirely defended vi et lingua ; that is to say, by 
force of tongues. The account which I lately 
wrote to our friend, the snorer, respecting the 
immense army of six hundred men, makes noth- 
ing against this observation ; that formidable 
body being kept up, as I have already observed, 
only to amuse their fair countrywomen by their 
splendid appearance and nodding plumes ; and 
are, by way of distinction, denominated the " de- 
fenders of the fair." 

In a logocracy thou well knowest there is little 
or no occasion for fire-arms, or any such de- 
structive weapons. Every offensive or defensive 
measure is enforced by wordy battle, and paper 
war ; he who has the longest tongue or readiest 



WORDY BATTLE. 149 

quill is sure to gain tlie victory — will carry hor- 
ror, abuse, and ink-shed into the very trenches 
of the enemy ; and, without mercy or remorse, 
put men, women, and children to the point of 
the — pen ! 

There is still preserved in this country some 
remains of that Gothic spirit of knight-errantry 
wliich so much annoyed the faithful in the middle 
ages of the lit'gira. As, notwithstanding their 
martial disposition, they are a people much given 
to commerce and agriculture, and must, neces- 
sarily, at certain seasons be engaged in these 
employments, they have accommodated them- 
selves by appointing knights, or constant M^ar- 
riors, incessant brawlers, similar to those who, 
in former a^es, swore eternal enmity to the fol- 
lowers of our divine prophet. These knights, 
denominated editors or slang -whangers, are ap- 
pointed in every town, village, or district, to 
carry on both foreign and internal warfare, and 
may be said to keep up a constant firing " in 
words." O my friend, could you but witness 
tlie enormities sometimes committed by these tre- 
mendous slang-whangers, your very turban would 
rise with horror and astonishment. I have seen 
them extend their ravages even into the kitchens 
of their opponents, and annihilate the very cook 
with a blast ; and I do assure thee, I beheld one 
of these warriors attack a most venerable bashaw, 
and at one stroke of his pen lay him open from 
the waistband of his breeches to his chin ! 

There lias been a civil war carrying on with 
^reat violence for some time past, in consequence 



150 SALMAGUNDI. 

of a conspiracy, among the higher classes, to 
dethrone his highness, the present bashaw, and 
place another in his stead. I was mistakeu when 
I formerly asserted to thee that this dissatisfac- 
tion arose from his wearing red breeches. It is 
true, the nation have long held tiiat color in 
great detestation, in consequence of a dispute 
they had some twenty years since with the bar- 
barians of the British islands. The color, how- 
ever, is again rising into favor, as the ladies have 
transferred it to their heads from the bashaw's 

body. The true reason, I am told, is, that 

the bashaw absolutely refuses to believe in the 
deluge, and in the story of Balaam's ass ; main- 
taining tliat this animal was never yet permitted 
to talk except in a genuine logocracy ; where, it 
is true, his voice may often be heard, and is lis- 
tened to with reverence, as " the voice of the 
sovereign people." Nay, so far did he carry his 
obstinacy, that he absolutely invited a professed 
antedihivian from the Gallic empire, who illumi- 
nated the whole country with his principles — 
and his nose. This was enough to set the nation 
in a blaze — every slang-whanger resorted to 
his tongue or his pen ; and for seven years have 
they carried on a most inhuman war, in which 
volumes of words have been expended, oceans 
of ink have been shed, nor has any mercy been 
shown to age, sex, or condition. Every day 
have these slang-whangers made furious attacks 
on each other, and upon their respective adhe- 
rents ; discharging their heavy artillery, con- 
sisting of large sheets, loaded with scoundrel! 



SLANG- WHANGING. 151 

villain ! liar ! rascal ! numskull ! nincompoop 
dunderhead ! wiseacre ! blockhead ! jackass ! and 
I do swear, by my beard, though I know thou 
wilt scarcely credit me, that in some of these 
skirmishes the grand bashaw himself has been 
wofully pelted ! yea, most ignominiously pelted ! 
and yet have these talking desperadoes escaped 
without the bastinado ! 

Every now and then a slang-whanger, who 
has a longer head, or rather a longer tongue than 
the rest, will elevate his piece and discharge a 
shot quite across the ocean, leveled at the head 
of the emperor of France, the king of England, 
or, wouldst thou believe it, Asem, even at 
his sublime highness the bashaw of Tripoli! 
These long pieces are loaded with single ball, or 
language, as tyrant ! usurper ! robber ! tiger ! 
monster ! aiid thou mayest well suppose they 
occasion great distress and dismay in the camps 
of the enemy, and are marvelously annoying to 
the crowned heads at which they are directed. 
The slang-whatiger, though perhaps the mere 
champion of a village, having fired off his shot, 
struts about with cjreat self-conjiratulation. chuck- 
ling at the prodigious bustle he must have occa- 
sioned, and seems to ask of every stranger, 
" Well, sir, what do they think of me in Eu- 
rope?"^ This is sufficient to show you tlie 
manner in which these bloody, or rather windy 

NOTE, BY WILLLV3I WIZARD, ESQ. 

^ The sage Mustapba, when he wrote the above paragraph, 
had probabl}" in his eye the following anecdote, related either 



152 SALMAGUNDI. 

fellows fight; it is the only mode allowable in a 
lo»ocracy or government of words. I would 
also observe that their civil wars have a thousand 
ramifications. 

While the fury of the battle rages in the 
metropolis, every little town and village has a 
distinct broil, growing like excrescences out of 
the grand national altercation, or rather agitating 
within it, like those complicated pieces of mecha- 
nism where there is a " wheel within a wheel." 

But ill nothing is the verbose nature of this 
government more evident than in its grand na- 
tional divan, or Congress, where the laws are 
framed ; this is a blustering, windy assembly, 
where everything is carried by noise, tumult, 
and debate ; for thou must know, that the mem- 
bers of this assembly do not meet together to 
find wisdom in the multitude of counselors, but 
to wrangle, call each other hard names, and hear 
themselves talk. When the Congress opens, the 

by Linkum Fidelius, or Josephus Millerius, vulgarly called 
Joe Miller, of facetious memon\ 

The captain of a slave-vessel, on his first lauding on the 
»oast of Guinea, observed under a palm-tree a negro chief, 
sitting most majestically on a stump; while two women, with 
M'ooden spoons, were administering his favorite pottage of 
boiled rice; which, as his imperial majesty was a little 
greedy, would part of it escape the place of destination and 
run down his chin. The watchful attendants were particu- 
larly careful to intercept these scape-grace particles, and re- 
turn them to their proper port of entry. As the captain ap- 
proached, in order to admire this curious exhibition of 
royalty, the great chief clapped his hands to his sides, and 
saluted his visitor with the following pompous question — 
" Well, sir! what do they say of me m England? " 



ALL TALK AND NO CIDER. 153 

bashaw first sends them a long message, i. c, a 
huge mass of words — vox et prceterea nihil, aU 
meaning nothing; because it only tells them 
what they perfectly know already. Then the 
whole assembly are thrown into a ferment, and 
have a long talk about the quantity of words 
that are to be returned in answer to this mes- 
sage ; and here arise many disputes about the 
correction and alteration of " if so he's " and 
*' how 80 ever's." A month, perhaps, is spent in 
thus determining the precise number of words 
the answer shall contain ; and then another, most 
probably, in concluding whether it shall be car- 
ried to the bashaw on foot, on horseback, or in 
coaches. Having settled this weighty matter, 
they next fall to work upon the message itself, 
and hold as much chattering over it as so many 
magpies over an addled ii^^. This done, they 
divide the message into small portions, and de- 
liver them into the hands of little juntoes of 
talkers, called committees ; these juntoes have 
each a world of talking about their respective 
paragraphs, and leturn the results to the grand 
divan, which forthwith falls to and retalks the 
matter over more earnestly than ever. Now, 
after all, it is an even chance that the subject 
of this prodijrious arguing, quarreling, and talk- 
inuf is an affair of no importance, and ends en- 
tirely in smoke. May it not then be said, the 
whole nation have been talking to no purpose ? 
The people, in fact, seem to be somewhat con- 
scious of this propensity to talk, by which they 
are characterized, and have a favorite proverb 



154 SALMAGUNDI. 

on the subject, viz., " all talk and no cider ; " 
this is particularly applied when their Congress, 
or assembly of all the sage chatterers of the 
nation, have chattered through a whole session, 
in a time of great peril and momentous event, 
and have done nothing but exhibit the length of 
their tongues and the emptiness of their heads. 
This has been the case more than once, my 
friend ; and to let thee into a secret, I have been 
told in confidence, that there liave been abso- 
lutely several old women smuggled into Congress 
from different parts of the empire ; who, having 
once got on the breeches, as thou mayest well 
imagine, have taken the lead in debate, and over- 
whelmed the whole assembly with their garru- 
lity ; for my part, as times go, I do not see why 
old women should not be as eligible to public 
councils as old men who possess their disposi- 
tions ; they certaiidy are eminently possessed of 
the qualifications requisite to govern in a log- 
ocracy. 

Nothing, as I have repeatedly insisted, can be 
done in this country without talking ; but they 
take so long to talk over a measure, that by the 
tiine they have determined upon adopting it, the 
period has elapsed which was proper for carrying 
it into effect. Unhappy nation ! thus iorn to 
pieces by intestine talks ! never, I fear, will it be 
restored to tranquillity and silence. Words are 
but breath; breath is but air ; and air put into 
motion is nothing but wind. This vast empire, 
tlierefore, may be compared to nothing more or 
less than a mighty windmill, and the orators, and 



THE BASE AW. 155 

the chatterers, and the slang-whangers, are the 
breezes that put it in motion ; unluckily, however, 
they are apt to blow different ways, and their 
blasts counteracting each other — the mill is per- 
plexed, the wlieels stand still, the grist is uuground, 
and the miller and his family starved. 

Everything partakes of the windy nature of 
the government. In case of any domestic griev- 
ance, or an insult from a foreign foe, the people 
are all in a buzz ; town-meetings are immediately 
held where the quidnuncs of the city repair, each 
like an Atlas, with the cares of the whole nation 
upon his shoulders, each resolutely bent upon sav- 
ing ids country, and each swelling and strutting 
like a turkey-cock ; puffed up with words, and 
wind, and nonsense. After bustling, and buzzing, 
and bawling for some time, and after each man 
has shown himself to be indubitably the greatest 
personage in the meeting, they pass a string of 
resolutions, i. e. words, which were previously 
prepared for the purpose ; these resolutions are 
whimsically denominated the sense of the meet- 
ing, and are sent off for the instruction of the 
reigning bashaw, who receives them graciously, 
puts them into his rt-d breeches pocket, forgets to 
read them — and so the matter ends. 

As to his highness, the present bashaw, who is 
at the very top of the logocracy, never was a 
dignitary better qualified for his station. He is 
a man of superlative ventosity, and comparable 
to nothing but a huge bladder of wind. He talks 
of vanquisiiing all opposition by the force of reason 
Hud philosophy : throws his gauntlet at all the 



156 SALMAGUNDI. 

notions of the earth, and defies them to meet 
him — on the field of argument! Is the national 
dignity insulted, a case in which his highness of 
Tripoli would immediately call forth his forces, 
the bashaw of America — utters a speech. Does 
a foreio^n invader molest the commerce in the 
very mouth of the harbors, an insult which would 
induce his highness of Tripoli to order out 
his fleets, his highness of America — utters a 
speech. Are the free citizens of America dragged 
from on board the vessels of their country, and 
forcibly detained in the war ships of another — 
his highness utters a speech. Is a peaceable cit- 
izen killed by the marauders of a foreign power, 
on the very shores of his country — his highness 
utters a speech. Does an alarming insurrection 
break out in a distant part of the empire — his 
highness utters a speech ! — nay, more, for here 
he shows his " energies " — he most intrepidly dis- 
patches a courier on horseback, and orders him to 
ride one hundred and twenty miles a da}', with a 
most formidable army of proclamations, i. e. a 
collection of words, packed up in his saddle-bags. 
He is instructed to show no favor nor affection ; 
but to charge the thickest ranks of the enemy, 
and to speechify and batter by words the con- 
spiracy and the conspirators out of existence. 
Heavens, my friend, what a deal of blustering is 
here ! It reminds me of a dunghill cock in a farm- 
yard, who, having accidentally in his scratchings 
found a worm, immediately begins a most vocifer- 
ous cackling — calls around him his hen-hearted 
companions, who run chattering from all quarters 



ANCESTRAL SHADES. 157 

to gobble up the poor little worm that happened to 
turn under his eye. O, Asem ! Asem ! on what a 
prodigious great scale is everything in this coun- 
try ! 

Thus, then, I conclude my observations. The 
infidel nations have each a separate characteristic 
trait, by vvhicli they may be distinguished from 
each other ; the Spaniards, for instance, may be 
said to sleep upon every affair of importance; the 
Italians to fiddle upon everything ; the French to 
dance upon everything ; the Germans to smoke 
upon everything ; the British islanders to eat 
upon everything ; and the windy subjects of the 
American logocracy to talk upon everything. 

For ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

HOW oft in musing mood my heart recalls, 
From gray-beard father Time's oblivious 
halls. 
The modes and maxims of my early day. 
Long in those dark recesses stow'd away : 
Drags once more to the cheerful realms of light 
Those buckram fashions, long since lost in night, 
And makes, like Endor's witch, once more to rise 
My grogram grandames to my raptured eyes ! 

Shades of my fathers ! in your pasteboard skirts, 
Your broidered waistcoats and your plaited shirts, 
Your formal bag-v\igs — wide-extended cuffs, 



158 8ALMAGUNDL 

Your five-inch chitterlings and uine-inch ruffs 
Gods ! how ye strut, at times, in all your state, 
Amid the visions of my thoughtful pate ! 
I see ye move the solemn minuet o'er, 
The modest foot scarce rising from the floor ; 
No thundering rigadoon with boisterous* prance. 
No pigeon-wing disturb your contre-danse. 
But silent as the gentle Lethe's tide, 
Adown the festive maze ye peaceful glide ! 

Still in my mental eye each name appears — 
Each modest beauty of departed years ; 
Close by mamma I see her stately march, 
Or sit, Mi d.11 the majesty of starch ; — 
When for the dance a stranger seeks her hand. 
I see her doubting, hesitating stand ; 
Yield to his claim with most fastidious grace. 
And sigh for her intended in his place ! 

Ah ! golden days ; when every gentle fair 
On sacred Sabbath conn'd with pious care 
Her Holy Bible, or her prayer-book o'er. 
Or studied honest Bunyan's drowsy lore ; 
Travell'd with him the " Pilgrim's Progress '* 

through, 
And storm'd the famous town of Man-soul too : — 
Beat Eye and Ear-gate up with thundering jar. 
And fought triumphant through the " Holy War ;** 
Or if, perchance, to lighter work? inclined. 
They sought with novels to relax the mind, 
'Tvvas *' Grandison's politely " formal page, 
Or '' Clelia " or " Pamela " were the rage. 

No plays were then — theatrics were un- 
known — 
A learned pig, a dancing monkey shown, 



MODERN BELLES. 159 

The feats of Punch, a cunning juggler's sleight. 
Were sure to fill each bosom with delight. 
An honest, simple, humdrum race we were, 
Undazzled yet by fashion's wildering glare ; 
Our manners unreserved, devoid of guile, 
We knew not then the modern monster. Style : 
Style, that with pride each empty bosom swells, 
Puffs boys to manliood, little girls to belles. 

Scarce from the nursery freed, our gentle fair 
Are yielded to the dancing-master's care ; 
And, ere the head one mite of sense can gain, 
Are introduced 'mid folly's frippery train. 
A stranger's grasp no longer gives alarms. 
Our fair surrender to their very arms. 
And in the insidious waltz ^ will swim and twine, 
And whirl and languish tenderly divine ! 
O, how I hate this loving, hugging dance ; 
This imp of Germany brought up in France : 
Nor can I see a niece its windings trace, 
But all the honest blood glows in my face. 
" Sad, sad refinement this," I often say ; 
*Tis modesty indeed refined away ! 
Let France its whim, its sparkling wit supply, 
The easy grace that captivates the eye ; 
But curse their waltz — their loose, lascivious arts, 
" That smooth our manners, to corrupt our 

hearts ! " 2 
Where now those books, from which in days of 

yore 
Our mothers gained their literary store ? 
Alas ! stifF-skirted Grandison gives place 
To novels of a new and rakish race ; 
And honest Bunyan's pious dreaming lore, 



160 SALMAGUNDI. 

To the lascivious rhapsodies of Moore. 
And, last of all, behold the mimic stage, 
Its morals lead to polish off the age ; 
With flimsy farce, a comedy miscall'd, 
Garnished with vulgar cant, and proverbs bald, 
With puns most puny, and a plenteous store 
Of smutty jokes, to catch a gallery roar. 
Or see, more fatal, graced with every art 
To charm and captivate the female heart, 
The false, '' the gallant, gay Lothario " smiles. ^ 
And loudly boasts his base seductive wiles — 
In glowing colors paint Calista's wrongs, 
And with voluptuous scenes the tale prolongs. 
When Cooper lends his fascinating powers, 
Decks vice itself in bright alluring flowers, 
Pleased with his maidy grace, his youthful fire, 
Our fair are lured the villain to admire ; 
While humbler virtue, like a stalkino- horse. 
Struts clumsily and croaks in honest Morse. 

Ah, hapless days ! when trials thus combined, 
In pleasing garb assail the female mind ; 
When every smooth, insidious snare is spread 
To sap the morals and delude the head ! 
Not Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-neoro, 
To prove their faith and virtue here below, 
Could more an angel's helping hand require 
To guide their steps uninjured through the fire, 
Where had but heaven its guardian aid denied, 
The holy trio in the proof had died. 
If, then, their manly vigor sought supplies 
From the bright stranger in celestial guise, 
Alas ! can we from feebler natures claim, 
To brave seduction's ordeal, free from blame ; 



THE WALTZ. 161 

To pass through fire unhurt like golden ore, 
Though ANGEL MISSIONS bless the earth no 
more ! 



NOTES, BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

1 Waltz.] As many of the retired matrons of this city, un- 
skilled in " gestic lore " are doubtless ignorant of the move- 
ments and tigures of this modest exhibition, I will endeavor 
to give some account of it, in order that they may learn what 
odd capers their daughters sometimes cut when from under 
their guardian wings. 

On a signal being given by the music, the gentleman seizes 
the lad}'' round her waist ; the lady scorning to be outdone in 
courtesy, very politely takes the gentleman round the neck, 
with one arm resting against his shoulder to prevent encroach- 
ments. Away then they go, about, and about, and about — 
"About M'hat, sir ? " — about the room, madam, to be sure. 
The whole economy of this dance consists in turning round 
and round the room in a certain measured step : and it is 
truly astonishing that this continued revolution does not set 
all their heads swimming like a top ; but I have been posi- 
tivel}' assured that it only occasions a gentle sensation which 
is marvelously agreeable. In the course of this circumnav- 
igation, the dancers, in order to give the charm of variety, 
are continually changing their relative situations ; — now the 
gentleman, meaning no harm in the world, I assure you, 
madam, carelessly flings his arm about the lady's neck, with 
an air of celestial impudence, and anon the lady, meaning* as 
little harm as the gentleman, takes him round the waist with 
most ingenuous modest languishment, to the great delight of 
numerous spectators and amateurs, who generally form a 
ring, as the mob do about a pair of amazons pulling caps, or 
a couple of fighting mastiffs. 

After continuing this divine interchange of hands, arms, et 
caetera, for half an hour or so, the lady begins to tire, and 
Mrith " eyes upraised," in most bewitching languor, petitions 



1G2 SALMAGUNDI. 

her partner for a little more support. This is always g\\vi\ 
without hesitation. The lady leans gently on his shoulder, 
their arms entwine in a ihoiisand seducing, mischievous 
curves — don't be alarmed, madam — closer and closer they 
approach each other, and in conclusion, the parties being 
overcome with ecstatic fatigue, the lady seems almost sinking 
into the gentleman's arms, and then — " Well, sir! and what 
thenV" — Lord, madam, how should I know? 

2.] My friend Pindar, and in fact our whole junto, has 
been accused of an unreasonable hostility to the French na- 
tion; and I am informed by a Parisian correspondent, that 
our first number played the very devil in the court of St. 
Cloud. His imperial majesty got into a most outrageous 
passion, and being withal a waspish little gentleman, had 
nearly kicked his bosom friend, Talleyrand, out of the cabi- 
net, in paroxysms of his wrath. He insisted upou it that 
the nation was assailed in its most vital part, being, like 
Achilles, extremely sensitive to any attacks upon the heel. 
When my correspondent sent otf his dispatches., it was still 
in doubt what measures would be adopted; but it "was 
strongly suspected that vehement representations would be 
made to our government. Willing, therefore, to save our 
Executive from any embarrassment on ihe subject, and above 
all, from the disagreeable alternative of sending an apology 
by the " Hornet," we do assure ]\Ir. Jeflerson that there is 
nothing further from our thoughts than the subversion of the 
Gallic empire, or any attack on the interests, tranquillity, or 
reputation of the nation at large, which we seriously declare 
possesses the highest rank in our estimation. Nothing less 
than the national welfare could have induced us to trouble 
ourselves with this explanation; and in the name of the 
junto, 1 once more declare, that when we toast a Frenchman, 
we merely mean one of these inconnus, who swarmed to this 
country from the kitchens and barbers' shops of Nantz, Bor- 
deaux, and Marseilles — played game of leap-frog at all our 
balls and assemblies — set this unhappy town hopping mad, 
and passed themselves off on our tender-hearted damsels for 
unfortunate noblemen, ruined in the revolution! Such only 
can wince at the lash, and accuse us of severity; and we 



FAIR PENITENTS. 163 

should be mortifie*^ in the extreme if they did not feel otir 
well-intended castigation. 

3 Fair Penitent.'] The story of this play, if told in its na- 
tive language, would exhibit a scene of guilt and shame 
which no modest ear could listen to without shrinking with 
disgust; but, arrayed as it is, in all the splendor of harmo- 
nious, rich, and polished verse, it steals into the heart like 
some ga)', luxurious, smooth-faced villain, and betrays it in- 
sensibly to immorality and vice; our very sympathy is en- 
listed on the side of guilt; and the piety of Altamont, and 
the gentleness of Lavinia, are lost in the splendid debaucher- 
ies of 'the "gallant, gay Lothario," and the blustering, hollow 
repentance of the fair Calista, whose sorrow reminds us of 
that of Pope's Heloise — "I mourn the lover, not lament the 
fault." Nothing is more easy than to banish such plays from 
our stage Were our ladies, instead of crowding to see thein 
again and again repeated, to discourage their exhibition by 
absence, the stage would soon be indeed the school of morality, 
and the number of "Fair Penitents," in all probability, 
diminish. 




NO. VIII.— SATURDAY, APRIL 18, 1807. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

*' In all thy humors, whether grave or mellow, 
Thou'rt such a touchy, testy, pleasant fellow ; 
Hast so much wit, and mirth, and spleen about thee, 
There is no living with thee — nor without thee." 




EVER, in the memory of the oldest in- 
habitant, has there been known a more 
backward spring." This is the univer- 
sal remark among the almanac quidnuncs, and 
weather-wiseacres of the day ; and I have heard 
it at least fifty-five times from old Mrs. Cock- 
loft, who, poor woman, is one of those walking 
almanacs that foretell every snow, rain, or frost, 
by the shooting of corns, a pain in the bones, or 
an " ugly stitch in the side." I do not recollect, 
in the whole course of my life, to have seen the 
month of March indulge in such untoward ca- 
pers, caprices, and coquetries, as it has done this 
year ; I might have forgiven these vagaries, had 
they not completely knocked up my friend Lang- 
statF; whose feelings are ever at the mercy of a 
weathercock, whose spirits sink and rise with the 
mercury of a barometer, and to whom an east 
wind is as obnoxious as a Sicilian sirocco. He 
was tempted some time since, by the fineness of 
the weather, to dress himself with more than or- 



LANGSTAFF ON NATURE. 165 

dinary care, and take his morning stroll ; but 
before he had half finished his peregrination, he 
was utterly discomfited, and driven home by a 
tremendous squall of wind, hail, rain, and snow, 
or, as he testily termed it, "a most villainous 
congregation of vapors." 

This was too much for the patience of friend 
Launcelot ; he declared he would humor the 
weather no longer in its whimwhams ; and, ac- 
cording to his immemorial custom on these occa- 
sions, retreated in high dudgeon to his elbow- 
chair to lie in of the spleen and lail at nature 
for being so fantastical : " Confound the jade," 
he frequently exclaims, "what a pity Nature had 
not been of the masculine instead of the fem- 
inine gender ; the almanac-makers might then 
have calculated with some dt^gree of certainty." 

When LangstafF invests himself with the 
spleen, and gives audience to the blue devils 
from his elbow-chair, 1 would not advise any of 
his friends to come within gun-shot of his citadel 
with the benevolent purpose of administering 
consolation or amusement ; for he is then as 
crusty and crabbed as that famous coiner of false 
money, Diogenes himself. Indeed his room is at 
such times inaccessible ; and old Pompey is the 
only soul that can gain admission, or ask a ques- 
tion with impunity ; the truth is, that on these 
occasions there is not a straw's difference be- 
tween them, for Pompey is as grum and grim 
and cynical as his master. 

Launcelot has now been above three weeks in 
this desolate situation, and has, therefore, had but 



166 SALMAGUNDI. 

little to do III our last immbor. As he could not 
be prevailed oii to i^Ive any aeeount of lihnself 
in our hitroduction, 1 will take the opportunity 
of hivS conlinement, while his baek is turned, to 
fjive a slight sketeh ot" his ehara(!ter — fertile in 
whiinwhanis and bachelorisms, but rich in many 
of the sterling qualities of our nature. An- 
nexed to this article, our readers will perceive a 
striking likeness of my friend which was taken 
by that cunning rogue. Will Wizard, who peeped 
through the key-hole and sketched it off, as hon- 
est Launcelot sat by the tire, wrapped up in his 
flannel robe de chaiuhrc, anil induliiing in a mor- 
tal lit of tlu> hi/p. Now take my word for it, gen- 
tle reader, this is the most auspicious moment in 
which to touch olV the phiz of a genuine humor- 
ist. 

Of the antiquity of the Langstaff family I can 
say but little; except that I have no doubt it is 
equal to that of most families who have the 
privilege of making their own pedigree, without 
the impertinent interposition of a college of 
heralds. ]My friend Launcelot is not a man to 
blazon anything ; but 1 have heard him talk 
with great complacency of his ancestor, Sir 
Rowland, who was a dashing buck in the days 
ot llardiktuitc, and broke the head of a irijiantic 
Dane, at a game of quarter-staff, in presence of 
the whole court. In memory of this gallant ex- 
ploit, Sir Rowland was permitted to take the 
name of Langstoffc, and to assume as a crest to 
his arms a hand grasping a cudgel. It is, how- 
ever, a foible so ridiculously common in this 



LANGSTAFrS PJCCULIARfTIES. 167 

country for people to claim consanguinity with 
all the great personages of their own name in 
Europe, tliat I should put but little fuitli in this 
family boast of friend Langstaff, did I not i^now 
him to be a man of most unquestionable veracity. 

The whole world knows already that my friend 
is a bachelor ; for he is, or pretends to be, exceed- 
ingly proud of his personal independence, and 
takes care to make it k?iown in all companies 
where strangers are present. Pie is forever 
vaunting the precious state of " single blessed- 
ness," and was, not long ago, considerably startled 
at a proposition of one of his great favorites, Miss 
Sophy Sparkle, "that old bachelors should be 
taxed as luxuries.*' Launcelot immediately hied 
him home, and wrote a tremendous long represen- 
tation in their behalf, which I am resolved to pub- 
lish if it is ever attempted to carry the measure 
into operation. Whether he is sincere in these 
professions, or whetiier his present situation is 
owing to choice or disappointment, he only can 
tell ; but if he ever does tell, I will suffer myself 
to be shot by the first lady's eye that can twang 
an arrow. In his youth he was forever in love ; 
but it was his misfortune to be continually crossed 
and rivaled by his bosom friend and contemporary 
beau, Pindar Cockloft, P2sq., for as Langstaff' never 
made a confidant on these occasions, his friends 
never knew which way his affections pointed ; 
and so, between them both, the lady generally 
slipped through their fingers. 

It has ever been the misfortune of Launcelot, 
that he could not for the soul of him restrain a 



168 SALMAGUNDI. 

good thing; and this fatah'ty has drawn upon 
him the ill-will of many whom he would not 
have offended for the world. With the kindest 
heart under heaven, and the most benevolent dis- 
position under heaven toward every being around 
him, he has been continually betrayed by the 
mischievous vivacity of his fancy, and the good- 
humored waggery of his feelings, into satirical 
sallies which have been treasured up by the in- 
vidious, and retailed out with the bitter sneer of 
malevolence, instead of the playful hilarity of 
countenance which originally sweetened and tem- 
pered and disarmed them of their sting. These 
misrepresentations have gained him many re- 
proaches and lost him many a friend. 

This unlucky characteristic played the mivS- 
chief with him in one of his love affairs. He 
was, as 1 have before observed, often opposed in 
his gallantries by that formidable rival, Pindar 
Cockloft, Esq., and a most formidable rival he 
was ; for he had Apollo, the nine muses, together 
with all the joint tenants of Olympus, to back 
him ; and everybody knows what important con- 
federates they are to a lover. Poor Launcelot 
stood no chance ; the lady was cooped up in the 
poet's corner of every weekly paper ; and at 
length Pindar attacked her with a sonnet, that 
took up a whole column, in which he enumerated 
at least a dozen cardinal virtues, together with 
mnumerable others of inferior consideration. 
Launcelot saw his case was desperate, and that 
unless he sat down forthwith, be-cherubimed 
and be-angeled her to the skies, and put every 



A GREAT MISFORTUNE. 169 

virtue under the sun in requisition, he might as 
well go hang himself, and so make an end of the 
business. At it, therefore, he went ; and was 
going on very swimmingly, for in the space of a 
dozen lines he had enlisted under her command 
at least three-score and ten substantial house- 
keeping virtues, when unluckily for Launcelot's 
reputation as a poet and the lady's as a saint, 
one of those confounded orood thou^fhts struck 
his laucrhter-lovins brain — it was irresistible ; 
away he went, full sweep before the wind, cut- 
ting and slashing, and tickled to death with his 
own fun ; the consequence was, that by the time 
he had finished, never was poor lady so most 
ludicrously lampooned since lampooning came 
into fashion. But this was not half; so hugely 
was Launcelot pleased with this frolic of his 
wits, that nothing would do but he must shovv it 
to the lady, who, as well she might, was mortally 
offended, and forbid him her presence. My 
friend was in despair, but, through the interfer- 
ence of his generous rival, was permitted to 
make his apology, which, however, most unluck- 
ily happened to be rather worse tlian the original 
offense ; for though he had studied aji eloquent 
compliment, yet, as ill luck would have it, a 
most preposterous whim wham knocked at his 
pericranium, and inspired him to say some con- 
summate good things, which, all put together, 
amounted to a downright hoax, and provoked 
the lady's wrath to such a degree, that sentence 
of eternal banishment was awarded against him. 
Launcelot was inconsolable, and determined in 



170 SALMAGUNDI. 

the true style of novel heroics to make the tour 
of Europe, and endeavor to lose the recollection 
of this misfortune amongst the gayeties of France 
and the' classic charms of Italy; he accordingly 
took passage in a vessel, and pursued his voyage 
prosperously as f\ir as Sandy Hook, where he 
was seized with a violent fit of sea-sickness; at 
which he was so affronted that he put iiis port- 
manteau into the first pilot-boat, and returned to 
town completely cured of his love and his rage 
for travelling. 

I pass over the subsequent amours of ray 
friend Langstaff, being but little acquainted with 
them ; for, as I have already mentioned, lie never 
was known to make a confidant of anybody. 
He always affirmed that a man must be a fool 
to fall in love, but an idiot to boast of it; ever 
denominated it the villainous passion ; lamented 
that it could not be cudgeled out of the human 
heart ; and yet could no more live without being 
in love with somebody or other than he could 
without whimwhams. 

My friend Launcelot is a man of excessive 
irritability of nerve, and I am acquainted with 
no one so susceptible of the petty " miseries of 
human life;" yet its keener evils and misfor- 
tunes he bears without shrinking, and however 
they may prey in secret on his happiness, he 
never complains. This was strikingly evinced in 
an affair where his heart was deeply and irrevo- 
cably concerned, and in which his success was 
ruined by one for whom he had long cherished a 
warm friendship. The circumstance cut poor 



ANTIPATHIES. 171 

Langstaff to tlie very soul ; he was not seen in 
company for months afterward, and for a long 
time he seemed to retire within himself, and bat- 
tle with the poignancy of his feelings ; but not a 
murmur or a reproach was heard to fall from his 
lips, though, at the mention of his friend's name, 
a shade of melancholy might be observed steal- 
ing across his face, and his voice assumed a 
touching tone, that seemed to say he remembered 
his treachery " more in sorrow than in anger." 
This affair has given a slight tinge of sadness to 
his disposition, which, however, does not prevent 
his entering into the amusements of the world ; 
the only effect it occasions is, that you may occa- 
sionally observe him, at the end of a lively con- 
versation, sink for a few minutes into an apparent 
forgetfulness of surrounding objects, during which 
time he seems to be indulging in some melancholy 
retrospection. 

Langstaff inherited from his father a love of 
literature, a disposition for castle-building, a mor- 
tal enmity to noise, a sovereign antipathy to cold 
weather and brooms, and a plentiful stock of 
whimwhams. From t!ie delicacy of his nerves 
he is peculiarly sensible to discordant sounds; 
the rattling of a wheelbarrow is •' horrible ; " the 
noise of children "diives him distracted;" and 
he once left excellent lodgings merely because 
the lady of the house wore high-heeled shoes, in 
which she clattered up and down stairs, till, to 
use his own emphatic expression, " they made 
life loathsome " to him. He suffers annual mar- 
tyrdom from the razor-edged zephyrs of our 



172 SALMAGUNDI. 

" balmy spring," and solemnly declares that the 
boasted month of May has become a perfect 
" vagabond." As some people have a great an- 
tipathy to cats, and can tell when one is locked 
up in a closet, so Launcelot declares his feelings 
always announce to him the neighborhood of a 
broom — a household implement which he abomi- 
nates above all others. Nor is there any living 
animal in the world that he holds in more utter 
abhorrence than what is usually termed a notable 
housewife ; a pestilent being, who, he protests, 
is the bane of goodfellowsliip, and has a heavy 
charge to answer for the many offenses commit- 
ted against the ease, comfort, and social enjoy- 
ments of sovereign man. He told me, not lorig 
ago, " that he had rather see one of the weird 
sisters flourish through his keyhole on a broom- 
stick, than one of tlie servant-maids enter the 
door with a besom." 

My friend Launcelot is ardent and sincere in 
his attachments, which are confined to a chosen 
few, in whose society he loves to give free scope 
to his whimsical imagination ; he, however, 
mingles freely with the world, though more as a 
spectator than an actor ; and without an anxiety, 
or hardly a care to please, is generally received 
with welcome and listened to with complacency. 
When he extends his hand, it is in a free, open, 
liberal style ; and when you shake it, you feel 
his honest heart throb in its pulsations. Though 
rather fond of gay exhibitions, he does not appear 
so frequently at balls and assemblies since the 
introduction of the drum, trumpet, and tambour- 



ON STYLE. 173 

ine ; all of which he abhors on account of the 
rude attack they make on his organs of hearing : 
in short, such is his antipathy to noise, that 
though exceedingly patriotic, yet he retreats 
every Fourth of July to Cockloft Hall, in order 
to get out of the way of the hubbub and confu- 
sion whi(;h make so considerable a part of the 
pleasure of that splendid anniversary. 

I intend this article as a mere sketch of Lans- 
staff's multifarious character ; his innumerable 
whimwhams will be exhibited by himself, in the 
course of this work, in all their strange varieties ; 
and the machinery of his mind, more intricate 
than the most subtile piece of clock-work, be 
fully explained. And trust me, gentle folk, his 
are the whimwhams of a courteous gentleman, 
full of most excellent qualities ; honorable in his 
disposition, independent in his sentiments, and of 
unbounded good nature, as may be seen through 
all his works. 



ON STYLE. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 



Style, a manner of writing; title; pin of a dial; the pistil 
of plants. — Johnson. 

Style, is style. — LinJcum Fiddius. 

NOW I would not give a straw for either of 
the above definitions, though I think the 
latter is by far the most satisfactory ; and I do 



174 SALMAGUNDI. 

wish sincerely every modern numskull, wiio takes 
hold, of a subject he knows nothing about, would 
adopt honest Linkum's mode of explanation. 
Blair's Lectures on this article have not thrown 
a whit more light on tiie subject of my inquiries ; 
ihey puzzled me just as much as did the learned 
and laborious expositions and illustrations of the 
worthy professor of our college, in the middle of 
which I generally had the ill luck to fall asleep. 

This same word Style, though but a diminutive 
word, assumes to itself more contradictions, and 
significations, and eccentricities, than any mono- 
syllable in the language is legitimately entitled 
to. It is an arrant little humorist of a word, 
and full of whimwhams, which occasions me to 
like it hugely ; but it puzzled me most wickedly on 
my first return from a long residence abroad, hav- 
ing crept into fashionable use during my absence; 
and had it not been for friend Evercrreen, and 
that thrifty sprig of knowledge, Jeremy Cocklofl 
the younger, I should have remained to this day 
ignorant of its meanino:. 

Though it would seem that the people of all 
countries are equally vehement in the pursuit of 
this phantom, style, yet in almost all of them 
there is a strange diversity in opinion as to what 
constitutes its essence ; and every different class, 
like the pagan nations, adore it under a different 
form. In England, for instance, an honest cit 
packs up himself, his family and his style, in a 
buggy or tim-whisky, and rattles away on Sunday 
with his fair partner blooming beside him, like 
an eastern bride, and two chubby children, squat- 



THE STYLE. 175 

tinjir like Chinese images at his feet. A baronet 
requires a chariot and pair; a lord must needs 
have a barouche and four; but a duke — O! a 
duke cannot possibly lumber his style along under 
a coach and six, and half a score of footmen into 
the bargain. In China a })uissant Mandarin 
loads at least three elephants with style ; and an 
overgrown sheep at the Cape of Good Hope, 
trails along his tail and his style on a wheelbarrow. 
In Egypt, or at Constantinople, style consists in 
the quantity of fur and fine clothes a lady can 
put on without danger of suffocation ; here it is 
otherwise, and consists in the quantity she can 
put off without the risk of freezing. A Chinese 
lady is thought prodigal of her charms if she ex- 
pose the tip of her nose, or the ends of her 
lingers, to the ardent gaze of bystanders ; and I 
recollect that all Canton was in a buzz in con- 
sequence of the great belle, Miss Nangfous, peep- 
insf out of the window with her face uncovered ! 
Here the style is to show not otdy the face, but 
the neck, shoulders, etc. ; and a lady never pre- 
sumes to hide them except when she is not " at 
home," and not sufficiently undressed to see com- 
pany. 

This style has ruined the peace and harmony 
of many a worthy household ; for no sooner do 
they set up for style, but instantly all the honest 
old comfortable saiis ceremonie furniture is dis- 
carded ; and you stalk cautiously about, amongst 
the uncomfortable splendor of Grecian chairs, 
Egyptian tables, Turkey carpets, and Etruscan 
vases. Tills vast improvement in furniture de- 



176 SALMAGUNDI. 

maiids an increase in the domestic establishment; 
and a family that once required two or three ser- 
vants for convenience, now employs half a dozen 
for style. 

Bell Brazen, late favorite of my unfortunate 
friend Dessalines, was one of these patterns of 
style ; and whatever freak she was seized with, 
however preposterous, was implicitly followed by 
all who would be considered as admitted in the 
stylish arcana. Slie was once seized with a 
whimwham that tickled the whole court. She 
could not lay down to take an afternoon's loll, 
but she must have one servant to scratch her 
head, two to tickle her feet, and a fourth to fan 
her delectable person while she slumbered. The 
thing took — it became the rage, and not a sable 
belle in all Hayti but what insisted upon being 
fanned, and scratched, and tickled in the true im- 
perial style. Sneer not at this picture, my most 
excellent townswomen, for who among you but 
are daily following fashions equally absurd ? 

Style, accordingly to Evergreen's account, con- 
sists in certain fashions, or certain eccentricities, 
or certain manners of certain people, in certain 
situations, and possessed of a certain share of 
fashion or importance. A red cloak, for instance, 
on the shoulders of an old market-woman is re- 
garded with contempt it is vulgar, it is odious : 
fling, however, its usurping rival, a red shawl, 
over the fine figure of a fashionable belle, and let 
her flame away with it in Broadway, or in a ball- 
room, and it is immediately declared to be the 
style. 



NEW-MADE FASHIONABLES. 177 

The modes of attaining this certain situation, 
which entitle its holder to style, are various and 
opposite : the most ostensible is the attainment of 
wealth, the possession of which changes at once 
the pert airs of vuglar ignorance into fashionable 
ease and elegant vivacity. It is highly amusing 
to observe the gradation of a family aspiring to 
style, and the devious windings they pursue in 
order to attain it. While beating up against wind 
and tide, they are the most complaisant beings 
in the world ; they keep " booing and booing," as 
M'Sycophant says, until you would suppose them 
incapable of standing upright ; they kiss their 
hands to everybody who has the least claim to 
style ; their familiarity is intolerable, and they 
absolutely overwhelm you with their friendship 
and loving kindness. But having once gained 
the envied preeminence, never were beings in 
the world more changed. They assume the most 
intolerable caprices : at one time, address you with 
importunate sociability ; at another, pass you by 
with silent indifference ; sometimes sit up in their 
chairs in all the majesty of dignified silence ; and 
at another time bounce about with all the obstrep- 
erous ill-bred noise of a little hoyden just broke 
loose from a boarding-school. 

Another feature which distinguishes these new- 
made fashionables, is the inveteracy with which 
they look down upon the honest people who are 
struggling to climb up to the same envied height. 
They never fail to salute them with the most 
sarcastic reflections; and like so many worthy 
hodmen, clambering a ladder, each one looks down 
12 



178 SALMAGUNDI. 

upon his next neighbor below, and makes no 
scruple of shaking the dust off his shoes into his 
eyes. Thus by dint of perse vei'ance, merely, 
they come to be considered as established denizens 
of the great world ; as in some barbarous nations 
an oyster shell is of sterling value, and a copper 
washed counter will pass current for genuine 
gold. 

In no instance have I seen this grasping after 
style more whimsically exhibite<l, than in the 
family of my old acquaintance, Timothy Giblet, 
I recollect old Giblet when I was a boy, and he 
was the most surly curmudgeon I ever knew. 
He was a perfect scarecrow to the small-fry of 
the day, and inherited the hatred of all these un- 
lucky little shavei's : for never could we assemble 
about his door of an evening to play, and make 
a little hubbub, but out he sallied from his nest 
like a spider, flourished his formidable horsewhip, 
and dispersed the whole crew in the twinkling of 
a lamp. I perfectly remember a bill he sent in 
to my father for a pane of glass [ had accidentally 
broken, which came well-ni^h gettinsf me a sound 
flogging; and I remember as perfiBCtly that the 
next night I revenged myself by breaking half 
a dozen. 

Giblet was as arrant a grubworm as ever 
crawled ; and the only rules of right and wrong 
he cared a button for, were the rules of multipli- 
cation and addition, which he practiced much 
more successfully than he did any of the rules 
of religion or morality. He used to declare they 
were the true golden rules ; and he took special 



THE GIBLET FAMILY. 179 

care to put Cocker's arithmetic in the hands of 
bis children, before they had read ten pages in 
the Bible or the Prayer-book. The practice of 
these favorite maxims was at length crowned 
with the harvest of success ; and after a life 
of self-denial atid starvation, and after enduring 
all the pounds, shillings, and pence miseries of a 
miser, he had the satisfaction of seeing himself 
worth a plum, and of dying just as he had deter- 
termined to enjoy the remainder of his days in 
contemplating his great wealth and accumulating 
mortgages. 

His children inherited his money ; but they 
buried the disposition, and every other memorial 
of their father, in his grave. Fired with a noble 
thirst for style, they instantly.emerged from the 
retired lane in which themselves and their ac- 
complishments had hitherto been buried ; and 
they blazed, and they whizzed, and they cracked 
about town, like a nest of squibs and devils in a 
fire-work. I can liken their sudden eclat to noth- 
ing but that of the locust, which is hatched in 
the dust, where it increases and swells up to ma- 
turity, and after feeling for a moment the vivify- 
ing rays of the sun, bursts forth a mighty insect, 
and flutters, and rattles, and buzzes from eveiy 
tree. The little warblers who have long cheered 
the woodlands with their dulcet notes, are stunned 
by the discordant racket of these upstart in- 
truders, and contemplate, in contemptuous silence, 
their tinsel and their noise. 

Having once started, the Giblets were deter- 
mined that nothing should stop them in their 



180 SALMAGUNDI. 

career, «i)til they had run their full course, and 
arrived at the very tip top of style. Every 
tailor, every shoemaker, every coachmaker, every 
milliner, every mantau maker, every paper- 
hanger, every piano teacher, and every dancing- 
master in the city, were enlisted in theii- service ; 
and the willing wights most courteously an- 
Bwered their call ; and fell to work to build up 
the fame of the Giblets, as they had done that 
of many an aspiring family before them. In a 
little time the young ladies could dance the waltz, 
thunder Lodoiska, murder French, kill time, and 
commit violence on the face of nature in a land- 
scape in water-colors, equal to the best lady in 
the land ; and the young gentlemen were seen 
lounging at corners of streets, and driving tan- 
dem ; heard talking loud at the theatre, and 
laughing in chiu'ch, with as much ease, and 
grace, and modesty, as if they had been gentle- 
men all the days of their lives. 

And the Giblets arrayed themselves in scarlet, 
and in fine linen, and seated themselves in high 
places ; but nobody noticed them except to honor 
them with a little contempt. The Giblets made 
a prodigious splash in their own opinion ; but 
nobody extolled them except the tailors, and the 
milliners who had been employed in manufac- 
turing their pharaphernalia. The Giblets there- 
upon being, like Caleb Quotem, determined to 
have " a place at the review," fell to work more 
fiercely than ever ; they gave dinners, and they 
gave balls, they hired cooks, they hired fiddlers, 
they hired confectioners ; and they would have 



GETTING INTO NOTICE. 181 

kept a newspaper in pay, had they not all been 
bought up at that time for the election. They 
invited the dancing-men and the dancing-women, 
and the gormandizers, and the epicures of the 
city, to come and make merry at their expense ; 
and the dancing-men and the dancing-women, 
and the epicures, and the gormandizers did 
come ; and they did make merry at their ex- 
pense ; and they eat, and tliey drank, and they 
capered, and they danced, and they — laughed 
at their entertainers. 

Then commenced the hurry and the bustle, 
and the miglity nothingness of fashionable life ; 
such rattling in coaches ! sucli flaunting in the 
streets! such slamming of box doors at the the- 
atre ! such a tempest of bustle and unmeaning 
noise wherever they appeared ! The Giblets 
were seen here and there and everywhere ; they 
visited everybody they knew, and everybody 
they did not know ; and there was no getting 
along for the Giblets. Their plan at length suc- 
ceeded. By dint of dinners, of feeding and 
frolicking the town, the Giblei familv worked 
themselves into notice, and enjoyt d the ineffable 
pleasure of being forever pestered by visitoi'S 
who cared nothing about them ; of being 
squeezed, and smothered, and parboiled at nightly 
balls and evening tea-parties ; they were allowed 
the privilege of forgetting the very few old 
friends they once possessed ; they turned their 
noses up in the wind at everything that was not 
genteel; and their superb manners and sublime 
affectation at length left it no lono^er a matter of 
doubt that the Giblets were perfectly \\\ style. 



182 SALMAGUNDI. 



-" Being, as it were, a small contentmente 



in a never contenting subjecte; a bitter pleas- 
aunte taste of a sweete seasoned sower ; and, all 
in all, a more than ordiiiarie rejoycing, in an ex- 
traordinarie sorrow of delyghts." — 

Link. Fidelius. 

WE have been considerably edified of late 
by several letters of advice from a num- 
ber of sage correspondents, who really seem to 
know more about our work than we do oui'selves. 
One warns us against saying anything more 
about 'Sbidlikens, who is a very particular 
friend of the writer, and who has a singular dis- 
inclination to be laughed at. This correspondent 
in particular inveighs against personalities, and 
accuses us of ill-nature in bringing forward old 
Fungus and Billy Dimple, as figures of fun to 
amuse the public. Another gentleman, who 
states that he is a near relation of the Cocklofts, 
proses away most soporifically on the impro- 
priety of ridiculing a respectable old family ; 
and declares that if we make them and their 
whimwhams the subject of any more essays, he 
shall be under the necessity of applying to our 
theatrical champions for satisfaction. A third, 
who, by the crabbedness of the handwriting, and 
a few careless inaccuracies in the spelling, ap- 
pears to be a lady, assures us that the Miss 
Cocklofts, and Miss Diana Wearwell, and Miss 
Dashaway, and Mrs. , Will Wizard's quon- 
dam flame, are so much obliged to us for our 
notice, that they intend in future to take no 



TO CORRESPONDENTS. 183 

notice of us at all, but leave us out of all their 
tea-parties, for which we make them one of our 
best bows, and say, " thank you, ladies." 

We wish to heaven these good people would 
attend to their own affairs, if they have any to 
attend to, and let us alone. It is one of the 
most provoking things in the world that we can- 
not tickle the public a little, merely for our own 
private amusement, but we must be crossed and 
jostled by these meddling incendiaries, and, in 
fact, have the whole town about our ears. We 
are much in the same situation with an unlucky 
blade of a cockney, who, having mounted his bit 
of blood to enjoy a little innocent recreation, and 
display his horsemanship along Broadway, is 
worried by all those little yelping curs that in- 
fest our city, and who never fail to sally out and 
growl, and bark, and snarl, to the great annoy- 
ance of the Birmingham equestrian. 

Wisely was it said by the sage Linkum Fide- 
lius, " howbeit, moreover, nevertheless, this thrice- 
wicked towne is charged up to the muzzle with 
all manner of ill-natures and uncharitablenesses, 
and is, moreover, exceedinglie naughte." This 
passage of the erudite Linkum was applied to 
the city of Grotham, of which he was once Lord 
Mayor, as appears by his picture hung up in the 
hall of that ancient city ; but his observation fits 
this best of all possible cities " to a hair." It 
is a melancholy truth that this same New York, 
though the most charming, pleasant, polished, and 
praiseworthy city under the sun, and in a word 
the honne houche of the universe, is most shock- 



184 SALMAGUNDI. 

ingly ill-natured and sarcastic, and wickedly given 
to all manner of baekslidings ; for which we are 
very sorry, indeed. In truth, for it must come 
out like murder, one time or other, the inhab- 
itants are not only ill-natured, but manifestly un- 
just ; no sooner do they get one of our random 
sketches in their hands, but instantly they apply 
it most unjustifiably to some " dear fiiend," and 
then accuse us vociferously of the personality 
which originated in their own officious friendship! 
Truly it is an ill-natured town, and most ear- 
nestly do we hope it may not meet with the fate 
of Sodom and Gomorrah of old. 

As, however, it may be thought incumbent 
upon us to make some apology for these mistakes 
of the town ; and as our good-nature is truly ex- 
emplary, we would certainly answer this expec- 
tation, were it not that we have an invincible 
antipathy to making apologies. We have a most 
profound contempt for any man who cannot give 
three good reasons for an unreasonable thing ; 
and will therefore condescend, as usual, to give 
the public three special reasons for never apolo- 
gizing: first, an apology implies tJjat we are ac- 
countable to somebody or another for our conduct ; 
now, as we do not care a fiddle-stick, as authors, 
for either public opinion or private ill-will, it 
would be implying a falsehood to apologize ; sec- 
ond, an apology would indicate that we had been 
doing what we ought not to have done. Now, as 
we never did and never intend to do anything 
wrong, it would be ridiculous to make an apol- 
ogy ; third, we labor under the same incapacity 



GENTLE READER. 185 

in the art of apologizing that lost LangstafF his 
mistress ; we never yet undertook to make an 
apology without committing a new offense, and 
making matters ten times worse than they were 
before ; and we are, therefore, determined to 
avoid such predicaments in future. 

But though we have resolved never to apolo- 
gize, yet we have no particular objection to ex- 
plain ; and if this is all that's wanted, we will go 
about it directly : — allons, gentlemen ! — before, 
however, we enter upon this serious affair, we 
take this opportunity to express our surprise and 
indigrjation at the incredulity of some people. 
Have we not, over and over, assured the town 
that we are three of the best-natured fellows liv- 
ing ? And is it not astonishing;, that havin^j al- 
ready given seven convincing proofs of the truth 
of this assurance, they should still have any 
doubts on the subject ? But as it it is one of 
the impossible tln'ngs to mnke a knave believe in 
honesty, so, perhaps, it may be another to make 
this most sarcastic, satirical, and tea drinking city 
believe in the existence of good-nature. But to 
our explanation. Gentle reader ! — for we are 
convinced that none but gentle or genteel readers 
can relish our excellent productions — if thou art 
in expectation of being perfectly satisfied with 
what we are about to say, thou mayest as well 
" whistle lillebullero," and skip quite over what 
follows ; for never wight was more disappointed 
than thou wilt be, most assuredly. But to the 
explanation : We care just as much about the 
public and its wise conjectures, as we do about 



186 



SALMAGUNDI. 



the man in the moon and his whim whams ; or 
the criticisms of the lady who sits majestically in 
her elbow-chair in the lobster : and who, belying 
her sex, as we are credibly informed, never says 
anything worth listening to. We have launched 
our bark, and we will steer to our destined port 
with undeviating perseverance, fearless of being 
shipwrecked by the way. Good-nature is our 
steersman, reason our ballast, whim the breeze 
that wafts us along, and morality our leading 
star. 





NO. IX.— SATURDAY, APRIL 25, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

|T in some measure jumps with my hu- 
mor to be " melancholy and gentleman- 
like " this stormy night, and I see no 
reason why I should not indulge myself for once. 
Away, then, with joke, with fun, and laughter, 
for a while ; let my soul look back in mournful 
retrospect, and sadden with the memory of my 
good aunt Charity — - who died of a Frenchman ! 
Stare not, 0, most dubious reader, at the 
mention of a complaint so uncommon ; grievously 
hath it ajfflicted the ancient family of the Cock- 
lofts, who carry their absurd antipathy to the 
French so far, that they will not suffer a clove of 
garlic in the house ; and my good old friend 
Christopher was once on the point of abandoning 
his paternal couirry mansion of Cockloft Hall, 
merely because a colony of frogs had settled in 
a neighboring swamp. I verily believe he would 
have carried his whim wham into effect, had not 
a fortunate drought obliged the enemy to strike 
their tents, and, like a troop of wandering Arabs, 
to march off towards a moister part of the coun- 
try. 

My aunt Charity departed this life in the fifty- 



188 SALMAGUNDI. 

ninth year of her age, though she never grew 
older after twenty-live. In her teens she was, 
according to her own account, a celebrated 
beauty, though I never could meet with anybody 
that remembered when she was handsome ; on 
the contrary, Evergreen's father, who used to 
gallant her in his youth, says she was as knotty 
a little piece of humanity as he ever saw ; and 
that, if she had been possessed of the least sensi- 
bility, she would, like poor old Acco^ have most 
certainly run mad at her own figure and face the 
first time she contemplated hi.rself in a looking- 
glass. In the good old times that saw my aunt 
in the heyday of youth, a fine lady was a most 
formidable animal, and required to be approached 
with the same awe and devotion that a Tartar 
feels in the presence of his Grand Lama. If a 
gentleman offered to take her hand, except to 
help her into a carriage, or lead her into a draw- 
ing-room, such frowns ! such a rustling of brocade 
and taffeta ! her very paste shoe-buckles sparkled 
with indignation, and for a moment assumed the 
brilliancy of diamonds : in those days the person 
of a belle was sacred ; it was unprofaned by the 
sacrilegious grasp of a stranger: simple souls! 
— they had not the waltz among them yet ! 

My good aunt prided herself on keeping up 
this buckram delicacy ; and if she happened to 
be playing at the old-fashioned game of forfeits, 
and was fined a kiss, it was always more trouble 
to get it than it was worth ; for she made a most 
gallant defense, and never surrendered until she 
saw her adversary inclined to give over his attack. 



MY AUNT CHARITY. 189 

Evergreen's father says he remembers once to 
have been on a sleighing party with her, and 
when they came to Kissing-bridge, it fell to his 
lot to levy contributions on Miss Charity Cockloft, 
who, after squalling at a hideous rate, at length 
jumped out of the sleigh plump into a snow-bank, 
where she stuck fast like an icicle, until he came 
to her rescue. This Latonian feat cost her a 
rheumatism, from which she never thoroughly 
recovered. 

It is rather singular that my aunt, though a 
great beauty, and an heiress withal, never got 
married. The reason she alleged was, that she 
never met with a lover who resembled Sir Charles 
Grandison, the hero of her nightly dreams and 
waking fancy; but I am privately of opinion 
that it was owing to her never having had an of- 
fer. This much is certain, that for many years 
previous to her decease, she declined all atten- 
tions from the gentlemen, and contented herself 
with watching over the welfare of her fellow-crea- 
tures. She was, indeed, observed to take a con- 
siderable lean toward Methodism, was frequent in 
her attendance at love feasts, read Whitefield and 
Wesley, and even went so far as once to travel 
the distance of five-and-twenty miles to be present 
at a camp-meeting. This gave great offense to 
my cousin Christopher, and his good lady, who, 
as I have already mentioned, are rigidly orthodox , 
and had not my aunt Charity been of a most pa- 
cific disposition, her religious whimwham would 
have occasioned many a family altercation. She 
was, indeed, as good a soul as the Cockloft family 



190 SALMAGUNDI. 

ever boasted ; a lady of unbounded loving-kindness, 
whicli extended to man, woman, and child ; many 
of whom she almost killed with good-nature. 
Was any acquaintance sick? Jn vain did the 
wind whistle and the storm beat ; my aunt would 
waddle through mud and mire, over the whole 
town, but what she would visit them. She would 
sit by them for hours together with the most per- 
severing patience, and tell a thousand melancholy 
stories of human misery, to keep up their spirits, 
The whole catalogue of yerh teas was at her fin- 
gers' ends, from formidable wormwood down to 
gentle balm ; and she would descant by the hour 
on the healing qualities of hoarhound, catnip, and 
pennyroyal. Woe be to the patient that came 
under the benevolent hand of my aunt Charity ; 
he was sure, willy-nilly, to be drenched with a 
deluge of decoctions ; and full many a time has 
my cousin Christopher borne a twinge of pain in 
silence, through fear of being condenmed to suffer 
the martyrdom of her materia-medica. My good 
aunt had moreover, considerable skill in astron- 
omy, for she could tell when the sun rose and 
set every day in the year ; and no woman was 
able to pronounce with more certainty, at what 
precise minute the moon changed. She held the 
Btory of the moon's being made of green cheese, 
as an abominable slander on her favorite planet ; 
and she had made several valuable discoveries in 
solar eclipses, by means of a bit of burnt glass, 
which entitled her at least to an honorary ad- 
mission in the American Philosophical Society. 
Hutching's Improved was her favorite book ; and 



CURIOSITY. 191 

I shrewdly suspect that it was from this valuable 
work she i\rew most of her sovereign remedies 
for colds, coughs, corns, and consumptions. 

But the truth must be told. With all her 
good qualities my aunt Charity was afflicted with 
one fault, extremely rare among her gentle sex 
— it was curiosity. How she came by it, I am 
at a loss to imagine, but it played the very ven- 
geance with her and destroyed the comfort of her 
life. Having an invincible desire to know every- 
body's character, business, and mode of living, 
she was forever prying into the affairs of her 
neighbors ; and got a great deal of ill-will from 
people toward whom she had the kindest disposi- 
tion possible. If any family on the opposite side 
of the street gave a dinner, my aunt would mount 
her spectacles, and sit at the window until the 
company were all housed, merely that she might 
know who they were. If she heard a story about 
any of her acquaintances, she would fortliwith set 
off full sail, and never rest until, to use her usual 
expression, she had got " to the bottom of it ; '* 
which meant nothing more than telling it to every- 
body she knew. 

I remember one night my aunt Charity hap- 
pened to hear a most precious story about one of 
her good friends, but unfortunately too late to 
give it immediate circulation. It made her abso- 
lutely miserable ; and she hardly slept a wink all 
night, for fear her bosom-friend, Mrs. Sipkins, 
should get the start of her in the morning and 
blow the whole affair. You must know there 
■was always a contest between these two ladies, 
who should first give currency to the good-natured 



192 SALMAGUNDI. 

tliiugs said about everybody; and this unfortu- 
nate rivalship at length proved fatal to their long 
and ardent friendship. My aunt got up full two 
hours that morning before her usual time ; put 
on her pompadour taffeta gown, and sallied forth 
to lament the misfortune of her dear friend. 
Would you believe it! — wherever she went, Mrs. 
Sipkins had anticipated her ; and, instead of be- 
ing listened to with uplifted hands and open- 
mouthed wonder, my unhappy aunt was obliged 
to sit down quietly and listen to the whole affair, 
with numerous additions, alterations, and amend- 
-ments ! Now, this was too bad ; it would have 
almost provoked Patience Grizzle or a saint. It 
was too much for my aunt, who kept her bed for 
three days afterward, with a cold, as she pretended ; 
but I have no doubt it was owins to this affair 
of Mrs. Sipkins, to whom she never would be rec- 
onciled. 

But I pass over the rest of my aunt Charity's 
life, checkered with the various calamities, and 
misfortunes, and mortifications, incident to those 
worthy old gentlewomen who have the domestic 
cares of the whole community upon their minds ; 
and I hasten to relate the melancholy incident 
that hurried her out of existence in the full bloom 
of antiquated virginity. 

In their frolicsome malice, the fates had or- 
dained that a French boarding-house, or Pension 
Frangaise, as it was called, should be established 
directly opposite my aunt's residence. Cruel 
event ! Unhappy Aunt Charity ! It threw her 
into that alarming disorder denominated the fid- 
gets ; she did uotiiing but watch at the window 



DYING OF A FRENCHMAN. 193 

day after day, but without becoming one whit 
the wiser at the end of a fortnight than she was 
at the beginning ; she thought that neighbor 
Pension had a monstrous Lai'ge family, and some- 
how or other they were all men ! she could not 
imagine what business neighbor Pension followed 
to support so numerous a household ; and won- 
dered why there was always such a scraping of 
fiddles in the parlor, and such a smell of onions 
from neighbor Pension's kitchen ; in short, neigh- 
bor Pension was continually uppermost in her 
thoughts, and incessantly on the outer edge of her 
tongue. This was, I believe, the very first time she 
had ever failed " to get at the bottom of a thing ;" 
and the disappointment cost her many a sleepless 
night, I warrant you. I have little doubt, how- 
ever, that my aunt would have ferreted neighbor 
Pension out, could she have spoken or understood 
French ; but in those times people in general 
could make themselves understood in plain Eng- 
lish ; and it was always a standing rule in the 
Cockloft family, which exists to this day, that 
not one of the females should learn French. 

My aunt Charity had lived at her window for 
some time in vain ; when one day, as she was 
keeping her usual look-out and suffering all the 
pangs of unsatisfied curiosity, she beheld a little 
meagre, weazel faced Frenchman, of the most for- 
lorn, diminutive, and pitiful proportions, arrive at 
neighbor Pension's door. He was dressed in 
white, with a little pinched-up cocked hat; he 
seemed to shake in the wind, and every blast that 
went over him whistled through his bones and 
13 



J 94 SALMAGUNDI. 

threatened instant annihilation. This embodied 
gpirit of famine was followed by three carts, lum- 
bered with crazy trunks, chests, band-boxes, bidets, 
medicine-chests, parrots, and monkeys ; and at his 
heels ran a yelping pack of little black-nosed pug- 
dogs. This was the one thing wanting to fill up 
the measure of my aunt Charity's afflictions ; she 
could not conceive, for the soid of her, who this 
mysterious little apparition could be that made so 
great a display ; what he could possibly do with 
so much baggage, and particularly with his par- 
rots and monkeys ; or how so small a carcass could 
have occasion for so many trunks of clothes. 
Honest soul ! she had never had a peep into a 
Frenchman's wai'drobe — that depdt of old coats, 
hats, and breeches, of the growth of every fashion 
he has followed in his life. 

From the time of this fatal arrival, my poor 
aunt was in a quandary ; — all her inquiries were 
fruitless ; no one could expound the history of 
this mysterious stranger : she never held up her 
head afterward — drooped daily, took to her bed 
in a fortnight, and in " one little month " I saw 
her quietly deposited in the family vault — being 
the seventh Cockloft that litis died of a whim- 
wham ! 

Take warning, my fair countrywomen ! and 
you, O ye excellent ladies, whether married or 
single, who pry into other people's affairs and 
neglect those of your own household — who are so 
busily employed in observing the faults of others 
that you have no time to correct your own — re- 
member the fate of my dear aunt Charity, and 
eschew the evil spirit of curiosity. 



PRANKS OF WIZARD AND EVERGREEN. 195 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

[FIND, by perusal of our last number, that 
Will Wizard and Evergreen, taking advan- 
tage of my confinement, have been playing some 
of their gambols. I suspected these rogues of 
some malpractices, in consequence of their queer 
looks and knowing winks whenever I came down 
to dinner ; and of their not sliowing their faces at 
old Cockloft's for several days, after the appear- 
ance of their precious effusions. Whenever these 
two waggish fellows lay their heads together, there 
is always sure to be hatched some notable piece 
of mischief; which, if it tickles nobody else, is 
sure to make its authors merry. The public will 
take notice that, for the purpose of teaching these 
my associates better manners, and punishing them 
for their high misdemeanoi's, I have, by virtue 
of my authority, suspended them from all inter- 
ference in Salmagundi, until they show a proper 
degree of repentance ; or I get tired of supporting 
the burden of the work myself. I am sorry for 
Will, who is already sufficiently mortified in not 
daring to come to the old house, and tell his long 
stories and smoke his cigar; but Evergreen, being 
an old beau, may solace himself in his disgrace by 
trimming up all his old finery and making love 
to the little girls. 

At present, my right-hand man is Cousin Pin- 
dar, whom I have taken into high favor. He 
came home the other night all in a blaze like a 
sky-rocket — whisked up to his ro .m in a parox- 
ysm of poetic inspiration, nor did we see anything 



196 SALMAGUNDI. 

of him until late the next morning, when he 
bounced upon us at breakfast, 

" Fire in each eye — and paper in each hand." 

This is just the way with Pindar, he is like a 
volcano ; will remain for a long time silent with- 
out emitting a single spark, and then, all at once, 
burst out in a tremendous explosion of rhyme 
and rhapsody. 

As the letters of my friend, Mustapha, seem 
to excite considerable curiosity, I have subjoined 
another. I do not vouch for the justice of his re- 
marks, or the correctness of his conclusions; they 
are full of the blunders and errors in which stran- 
gers continually indulge, who pretend to give an 
account of this country before they well know 
the geography of the street in which they live. 
The copies of my friend's papers being confused 
and without date, T cannot pretend to give them 
in systematic order ; in fact, they seem now and 
then to treat of matters which have occurred since 
his departure : whether these are sly interpola- 
tions of the meddlesome wight Will Wizard, or 
whether honest Mustapha was gifted with the 
spirit of prophecy or second sight, I neither know, 
nor in fact, do I care. The followino; seems to 
have been written when the Tripolitan prisoners 
were so much annoyed by the ragged state of their 
wardrobe. Mustapha feelingly depicts the embar- 
rassments of his situation, traveller-like ; makes 
an easy transition from his breeches to the seat of 
government, and incontinently abuses the whole 
administration ; like a sapient traveller I once 
knew, who damned the French nation in toto — 
because they eat sugar with green peas. 



RIDICULOUS DILEMMA. 197 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 
KHAN, 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASr>M HACCIIEM, PRINCIPAL 

SLAVE DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE 

BASHAW OF TKirOLI. 

SWEET, O Asem ! is the memory of distant 
friends ! like the mellow ray of a departing 
Bun it falls tenderly yet sadly on the heart. 
Every hour of absence from my native land rolls 
heavily by, like the sandy wave of the desert ; 
and the fair shores of my country rise blooming to 
my imagination, clothed in the soft illusive charms 
of distance. I sigh, yet no one listens to the sigh 
of the captive ; 1 shed the bitter tear of recollec- 
tion, but no one sympathizes in the tear of the 
turbaned stranger ! Tliink not, liowever, thou 
brother of my soul, that I complain of the horrors 
of my situation ; think not that my captivity is 
•attended with the labors, the chains, the scourges, 
the insults, that render slavery, with us, more 
dreadful than the pangs of hesitating, lingering 
death. Liglit indeed are the restraints on the 
personal freedom of thy kinsman ; but who can 
enter into the afflictions of the mind ? — who can 
describe the agonies of the heart ? They are 
mutable as the clouds of the air — they are count- 
less as the waves that divide me from my native 
country. 

I have, of late, my dear Asem, labored under 
an inconvenience singularly unfortunate, and am 
reduced to a dilemma most ridiculously embarrass- 
ing. Why should I hide it from the companion 



198 SALMAGUNDI 

of my thoughts, the partner of my sorrows and 
my joys ? Alas, Asem ! thy friend Miistaplia, 
the invincible captain of a ketch, is sadly in want 
of a pair of breeches ! Thou wilt doubtless 
smile, 0, most grave Mussulman, to hear me in- 
dulge in ardent lamentations about a circumstance 
so trivial, and a want apparently so easy to be 
satisfied ; but little canst thou know of the mor- 
tifications attending my necessities, and the as- 
tonishing difficulty of supplying them. Honored 
by the smiles and attentions of the beautiful 
ladies of this city, who have fallen in love with 
my whiskers and my turban ; courted by the 
bashaws and the great men, who delight to have 
me at their feasts ; the honor of my company 
eagerly solicited by every fiddler who gives a 
concert ; think of my chagrin at being obliged to 
decline the host of invitations that daily over- 
whelm me, merely for want of a pair of breeches ! 
O, Allah ! Allah ! that thy disciples could come 
into the world all befeathered like a bantam, or 
with a pair of leather breeches like the wild deer 
of the forest ! Surely, my friend, it is the destiny 
of man to be forever subjected to petty evils, 
which, however trifling in appearance, prey in 
silence on his little pittance of enjoyment, and 
poison those moments of sunshine, wliich might 
otherwise be consecrated to happiness. 

The want of a garment, thou wilt say, is easily 
supplied ; and thou mayest suppose need only be 
mentioned to be remedied at once by any tailor 
of the land ; little canst thou conceive the impedi- 
ments which stand-in the way of my comfort; 



A PAIR OF BREECHES. 199 

and still less art thou acquainted with the pro- 
digious great scale on which everything is tran- 
sacted in this country. The nation moves most 
majestically slow and clumsy in the most trivial 
affairs, like the unwieldy elephant which makes a 
formidable difficulty of picking up a straw ! 
When I hinted my necessities to the officer who 
has charge of myself and my companions, I ex- 
pected to have them forthwith relieved ; but he 
made an amazing long face, told me that we were 
prisoners of state, that we must therefore be 
clothed at the expense of goverrmient ; that as no 
provision had been made by Congress for any 
emergency of the kind, it was impossible to fur- 
nish me with a pair of breeches, until all the sages 
of the nation had been convened to talk over the 
matter, and debate upon the expediency of grant- 
ing my request. Sword of the immortal Khaled, 
thought I, but this is great! this is truly sublime ! 
All the sages of an immense logocracy assembled 
together to talk about my breeches ! Vain mortal 
that I am ! I cannot but own that I was some- 
what reconciled to the delay, which must neces- 
sarily attend this method of clothing me, by the 
consideration that if they made the affair a na- 
tional act, my " name must of course be embodied 
in history," and myself and my breeches flourish 
to immortality in the annals of this mighty 
empire ! 

" But pray," said 1, " how does it happen that 
a matter so insignificant should be erected into an 
object of such importance, as to employ the rep- 
resentative wisdom of the nation ; and what is 



200 SALMAGUNDI. 

the cause of their talking so much about a trifle?" 
" 0," replied the officer, who acts as our slave- 
driver, " it all proceeds from economy. If the 
government did not spend ten times as much 
money in debating whether it was proper to sup- 
ply you with breeches, as the breeches themselves 
would cost, the people who goverji the bashaw 
and his divan would straightway begin to com- 
plain of their liberties being infringed ; the na- 
tional finances squandered ! Not a hostile slang- 
whanger throughout the logocracy, but would 
burst forth like a barrel of combustion ; and ten 
chances to one but the bashaw and the sages of 
his divan would all be turned out of office to- 
gether. My good Mussulman," continued he, 
" the administration have the good of the people 
too much at heart to trifle with their pockets ; 
and they would sooner assemble and talk away 
ten thousand dollars, than expend fifty silently 
out of the treasury ; such is the wonderful spirit of 
economy that pervades every branch of this 
government." " But," said I, " how is it pos- 
sible they can spend money in talking ? surely 
words cannot be the current coin of this country ? " 
" Truly," cried he, smiling, " your question is per- 
tinent enough, for words indeed often supply the 
place of cash among us, and many an honest 
debt is paid in promises ; but the fact is, the 
grand bashaw and the members of Congress, or 
grand talkers of the nation, either receive a 
yearly salary, or are paid by the day." " By 
the nine hundred ton2;ues of the great beast of 
Mahomet's vision, but the murder is out — it is 



ECONOMY. 201 

no wonder these honest men talk so much about 
nothing, when they are paid for talking, like day- 
laborers." " You are mistaken," said my driver ; 
" it is nothing but economy ! " 

I remained silent for some minutes, for this in- 
explicable word, economy, always discomfits me ; 
and when I flatter myself I have grasped it, it slips 
through my fingers like a jack-o'-lantern. I have 
not, nor perhaps ever shall acquire, sufficient of 
the philosopliic policy of this government to dj-aw 
a proper distinction between an individual and a 
nation. If a man was to throw away a pound 
ia order to save a beggarly penny, and boast at 
the same time of his economy, I should think 
hiin on a par with the fool in the fable of Alfangi, 
who, in skinning a flint worth a farthing, spoiled 
a knife worth fifty times the sum, and thought he 
had acted wisely. The shrewd fellow would 
doubtless have valued himself much more highly 
on his economy, could he have knowa that his 
example would one day be followed by the ba- 
shaw of America and the sages of his divan. 

This economic disposition, my friend, occasions 
much fighting of the spirit, and innumerable con- 
tests of the tongue in this talking assembly. 
Wouldst thou believe it ? they were actually em- 
ployed for a whole week in a most strenuous and 
eloquent debate about patching up a hole in the 
wall of the room appropriated to their meetings ! 
A vast profusion of nervous argument and pom- 
pous declamation was expended on the occasion. 
Some of the orators, I am told, being rather wag- 
gishly inclined, were most stupidly jocular on the 



202 SALMAGUNDI. 

occasion ; but their waggery gave great offense, 
and was highly reprobated by the more weighty 
part of the assembly, who held all wit and humor 
in abomination, and thought the business in liand 
mucli too solemn and serious to be treated lightly. 
It is supposed by some that affair would have oc- 
cupied a whole winter, as it was a subject upon 
which several gentlemen spoke who had never 
been known to open their lips in that place, except 
to say yes and no. These silent members are, 
by way of distinction, denominated orator mums, 
and are highly valued in this country on account 
of their great talent for silence — a qualification 
extremely rare in a logocracy. 

Fortunately for the public tranquillity, in the 
hottest part of the debate, when two rampant 
Virginians, brimful of logic and philosophy, were 
measuring tongues, and syllogistically edgeling 
each other out of their unreasonable notions, the 
president of the divan, a knowing old gentleman, 
one night slily sent a mason, with a hod of mortar, 
who, in the course of a ^qw minutes, closed up 
the hole, and put a final end to the argument. 
Thus did this wise old gentleman, by liitting on 
a most simple expedient, in all probability, save 
his country as much money as would build a gun- 
boat, or pay a hireling slang-whatiger for a whole 
volume of words. As it happened, only a few 
thousand dollars were expended in paying these 
men, who are denominated, I suppose in derision, 
legislators. 

Another instance of their economy, I relate 
with pleasure, for I really begin to feel a regard 



MUCH ADO ABOUT NOTHING. 203 

for these poor barbarians. They talked away the 
best part of a whole winter before they could 
determine not to expend a ^qw dollars in pur- 
chasing a sword to bestow on an illustrious war- 
rior ; yes, Asem, on that very hero who frightened 
all our poor old women and young children at 
Derne,^ and fully proved himself a greater man 
than the mother that bore him. Thus, my friend, 
is the whole collective wisdom of this mighty 
logocracy employed in somniferous debates about 
the most trivial affairs ; like I have sometimes 
seen a herculean mountebank exerting all his 
energies in balancing a straw upon his nose. 
Tiieir sages behold the minutest object with the 
microscopic eyes of a pismire ; mole-hills swell 
into mountains, and a grain of mustard seed will 
set the whole ant-hill in a hubbub. Whether 
this indicates a capacious vision or a diminutive 
mind, I leave thee to decide ; for my part, I con- 
sider it as another proof of the great scale on 
which everything is transacted in this country. 
I have before told thee that nothing can be 
done without consulting the sajjes of the nation, 
who compose the assembly called the Congress. 
This prolific body may not improperly be termed 
the " mother of inventions ; " and a most fruitful 
mother it is, let me tell thee, though its children 
are generally abortions. It has lately labored 
with what was deemed the conception of a mighty 
navy. All the old women and the good wives 
that assist the bashaw in his emergencies, hurried 

1 General Eaton's famous adventure on the land expedition 
from Egypt to rescue Bainbridge and the prisoners at Tripoli 



204 SALMAGUNDI. 

to head-quarters to be busy, like midwives, at the 
delivery All was anxiety, fidgeting, and con- 
sultation ; when, after a deal of groaning and 
struggling, instead of formidable first-rates and 
gallant frigates, out crept a litter of sorry little 
gunboats ! These are most pitiful little vessels, 
partaking vastly of the character of the grand 
bashaw, who has the credit of begetting them — 
being flat, shallow vessels that can only sail be- 
fore the wind — must always keep in with the 
land — are continually foundering or lunning 
ashore — and, in short, are only fit for smooth 
water. Though intended for the defense of the 
maritime cities, yet the cities are obliged to de- 
fend them ; and they require as much nursing as 
so many rickety little bantlings. They are, how- 
ever, the darling pets of the grand bashaw, being 
the children of his dotage, and, perhaps, from their 
diminutive size and palpable weakness, are called 
the " infant navy of America." Tlie act that 
brought them into existence was almost deified by 
the majority of the people as a grand stroke of 
economy. By the beard of Mahomet, but this 
word is truly inexplicable. 

To this economic body, therefore, was I ad- 
vised to address my petition, and humbly to pray 
that the august assembly of sages would, in the 
plentitude of their wisdom and the magnitude 
of their powers, munificently bestow on an un- 
fortunate captive, a pair of cotton breeches ! 
" Head of the immortal Amrou," cried J, " but 
this would be presumptuous to a degree ; what ! 
after these worthies have thought proper to leave 



M US TA PHA* IN EXTREMITY. 205 

tlieir country naked and defenseless, and exposed 
to all the political storms that rattle without, can 
I expect that they will lend a helping hand to 
comfort the extremities of a solitary captive ? " 
My exclamation was only answered by a smile, 
and I was consoled by the assurance that, so far 
from being neglected, it was every way probable 
my breeches might occupy a whole session of the 
divan, and set several of the longest heads to 
gether by the ears. Flattering as was the idea 
of a whole nation being agitated about my 
breeches, yet I own I was somewhat dismayed at 
the idea of remaining in querpo, until all the 
national gray-beards should have made a speech 
on the occasion, and given their consent to the 
measure. The embarrassment and distress of 
mind which I experienced was visible in my 
countenance, and my guard, who is a man of in- 
finite good-nature, immediately suggested, as a 
more expeditious plan of supplying my wants, a 
benefit at the theatre. Though profoundly igno- 
rant of his meaning, I agreed to his proposition, 
the result of which I shall disclose to thee in 
another letter. 

Fare thee well, dear Asem ; in thy pious 
prayers to our great prophet, never forget to 
solicit thy friend's return ; and when thou num- 
berest up the many blessings bestowed on thee 
by all-bountiful Allah, pour forth thy gratitude 
that he has cast thy nativity in a land where 
there is no assembly of legislative chatterers ; no 
great bftshaw, who bestrides a gunboat for a 
hobby-horse; where the word economy is un- 



206 SALMAGUNDI. 

known, and where an unfortunate captive is not 
obliged to call upon the whole nation to cut him 
out a pair of breeches. 

Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA.. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

THOUGH entered on that sober age, 
When men withdraw from fashion's stage, 
And leave the follies of the day, 
To shape their course a graver way; 
Still those gay scenes I loiter round. 
In which my youth sweet transport found ; 
And though I feel their joys decay. 
And languish every hour away — 
Yet like an exile doom'd to part 
From the dear country of his heart. 
From the fair spot in which he sprung, 
Where his first notes of love were sung, 
Will often turn to wave the hand, 
And sigh his blessings on the land; 
Just so my lingering watch I keep — 
Thus oft I take my farewell peep. 

And, like that pilgrim, who retreats, 
Thus lagging from his parent seats, 
When the sad thought pervades his mind. 
That the fair land he leaves behind 
Is ravaged by a foreign foe. 
Its cities waste, its temples low. 
And ruined all those haunts of joy 
Tiiat gave him rapture when a boy ; 



LAUDATOR TEMP US ACTl. 207 

Turns from it with averted eye, 
And while he heaves the anguish'd sigh, 
Scarce feels reirret that the loved shore 
Shall beam upon his sight no more ; 
Just so it grieves my soul to view, 
While breathing forth a fond adieu, 
The innovations pride has made, 
The fustian, frippery, and parade, 
That now usurp with mawkish grace 
Pure tranquil pleasure's wonted place ! 

'Twas joy we looked for in my prime, 
That idol of the olden time ; 
When all our pastimes had the art 
To please and not mislead the heart. 
Style curs'd us not — that modern flash, 
That love of racket and of trash. 
Which scares at once all feeling joys, 
And drowns delight in empty noise ; 
Which barters friendship, mirth, and truth. 
The artless air, the bloom of youth. 
And all those gentle sweets that swarm 
Round nature in her simplest form. 
For cold display, for hollow state. 
The trappings of the would-be great. 

O! once again those days recall, 
When heart met heart in fashion's hall, 
When every honest guest would flock 
To add his pleasure to the stock. 
More fond his transports to express. 
Than show the tinsel of his dress! — 
These were the times that clasp'd the soul 
In gentle friendship's soft control; 
Our fair ones, unprofan'd by art. 



208 SALMAGUNDI. 

Content to gain one honest heart, » 

No train of sighing swains desired, | 

Sought to be loved and not admired. 

But now 'tis form, not love unites ; j 

'Tis show, not pleasure that invites. \ 

Each seeks the ball to play the queen, 

To flirt, to conquer, to be seen: 

Each grasps at universal sway, 

And reigns the idol of the day ; 

Exults amid a thousand sighs, 

And triumphs when a lover dies. 

Each belle a rival belle surveys. 

Like deadly foe, with hostile gaze ; 

Nor can her " dearest friend " caress, 

Till she has slily scann'd her dress ; 

Ten conquests in one year will make, 

And six eternal friendships break ! 

How oft I breathe the inward sigh, 

And feel tlie dew-drop in my eye. 

When I behold some beauteous frame, 

Divine in everything but name, 

Just venturino;, in the tender affe, 

On fashion's late newfangled stage ! 

"Where soon the guiltless heart shall cease 

To beat in artlessness and peace : 

Where all the flowers of gay delight 

With which youth decks its prospects bright, 

Shall wither 'mid the cares, the strife, 

The cold realities of life ! 

Thus lately, in my careless mood. 
As I the world of fashion view'd. 
While celebrating, great and small. 
That great solemnity — a ball. 



TWO SISTER NYMPHS. 209 

My roving vision chanced to light 
On two sweet forms divinely bright ; 
Two sister nymphs, alike in face, 
In mien, in loveliness, and grace ; 
Twin rosebuds, bursting into bloom, 
In all their brilliance and perfume : 
Like those fair forms that often beam 
Upon the eastern poet's dream ! 
For Eden had each lovely maid 
In native innocence arrayed — 
And heaven itself had almost shed 
Its sacred halo round each head ! 

They seem'd just entering, hand-in-hand, 
To cautious tread this fairy land ; 
To take a timid, hasty view. 
Enchanted with a scene so new. 
The modest blush, untaught by art, 
Bespoke their purity of heart ; 
And every timorous act unfurl'd 
Two souls unspotted by the world. 

O, how these strangers joy'd my sight, 
And thrilled my bosom with delight ! 
They brought the visions of my youth 
Back to my soul in all their truth ; 
Recall'd fair spirits into day, 
That time's rough hand had swept away I 
Thus the bright natives from above, 
Who come on messages of love. 
Will bless, at rare and distant whiles, 
Our sinful dwelling by their smiles ! 

! my romance of youth is past, 

Dear airy dreams, too bright to last ! 

Yet when such forms as these appear, 
14 



2]0 SALMAGUNDI. 

I feel your soft remembrance here; 
For, ah ! the simple poet's heart, 
On which fond love once play'd its part, 
Still feels the soft pulsations beat, 
As loath to quit their foimer seat. 
Just like the harp's melodious wire, 
Swept by a bard with heavenly fire. 
Though ceased the loudly-swelling strain, 
Yet sweet vibrations long remain. 

Full soon I found the lovely pair 
Had sprung beneath a mother's care, 
Hard by a neighboring streamlet's side, 
At once its ornament and pride. 
The beauteous parent's tender heart 
Had well fulfilled its pious part ; 
And, like the holy man of old, 
As we're by sacred writings told, 
Who, when he from his pupil sped, 
Pour'd two-fold blessings on his head — 
So this fond mother had imprest 
Her early virtues in each breast, 
And as she found her stock enlarge, 
Had stampt new graces on her charge. 

The fair resign'd the calm retreat, 
"Where first their souls in concert beat, 
And flew on expectation's wing, 
To sip the joys of life's gay spring ; 
To sport in fashion's splendid maze, 
"Where friendship fades, and love decays. 
So two sweet wild flowers, near the side 
Of some fair river's silver tide, 
Pure as the gentle stream that laves 
The green biinks with its lucid waves. 



GUARDIAN ANGELS. 211 

Bloom beauteous in their native ground, 
Diffusing heavenly fragrance round. 
But should a venturous hand transfer 
These blossoms to the gay parterre, 
Where, spite of artificial aid. 
The fairest plants of nature fade, 
Though they may shine supreme awhile, 
'Mid pale ones of the stranger soil. 
The tender beauties soon decay, 
And their sweet fragrance dies away. 

Blest spirits ! who, entlironed in air, 
Watch o'er the virtues of the fair, 
And with angelic ken survey 
Their windings through life's checker'd way ; 
Who hover round them as they glide 
Down fashion's smooth, deceitful tide. 
And guide them o'er that stormy deep 
Where dissipation's tempests sweep : 
O make tliis inexperienced pair 
The objects of your tenderest care. 
Preserve them from the languid eye, 
The faded cheek, the long-drawn sigh ; 
And let it be your constant aim 
To keep the fair ones still the same: 
Two sister hearts, unsullied, bright ^ 

As the first beam of lucid light. 
That sparkles from the youthful sun. 
When first his jocund race begun. 
So when these hearts shall burst their shrine, 
To wing their flight to realms divine. 
They may to radiant mansions rise. 
Pure as when first they left the skies. 



NO. X. — SATURDAY, MAY 16, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 



HE long ijiterval which has elapsed since 
the publication of our last Dumber, like 

^^yi many other remarkable events, has given 
rise to much conjecture and excited considerable 
solicitude. It is but a day or two since I heard 
a knowing young gentleman observe, that he 
suspected Salmagundi would be a nine days 
w^onder, and had even propliesied that the ninth 
would be our last eflfort. But the age of proph- 
ecy, as well as that of chivalry, is past ; and no 
reasonable man should now venture to foretell 
aught but what he is determined to bring about 
himself. He may then, if he please, monopolize 
prediction, and be honored as a prophet even in 
his own country. 

Though I hold whether we write, or not write, 
to be none of the public's business, yet as I have 
just heard of the loss of three thousand votes at 
least to the Clintonians, I feel in a remarkably 
dulcet humor thereupon, and will give some ac- 
count of the reasons which induced us to resume 
our useful labors, or rather our amusement ; for 
if writing cost either of us a moment's labor, 
there is not a man but what would hang up his 



i 



DISAPPOINTED READERS. 213 

pen, to the great detriment of the world at large, 
and of our publisher in particular ; who has ac- 
tually bought himself a pair of trunk breeches, 
with the profits of our writings ! ! 

He informs me that several persons having 
called last Saturday for No. X, took the disap- 
pointment so inuch to heart that he really appre- 
hended some terrible catastrophe ; and one good- 
looking man, in particular, declared his intention 
of quitting the country if tlie work was not con- 
tinued. Add to this, the "town has grown quite 
melancholy in the last fortnight ; and several 
young ladies have declared, in my hearing, that 
if another number did not make its appearance 
soon, they would be obliged to amuse themselves 
with teasing their beaux and making them miser- 
able. Now I assure my readers there was no 
flattery in this, for they no more suspected me 
of being Launcelot Langstaff than they suspected 
me of being the emperor of China, or the man 
in the moon. 

I have also received several letters complaining 
of our indolent procrastination ; and one of my 
correspondents assures me, that a number of 
young gentlemen, who had not read a book 
through since they left school, but who have 
taken a wonderful liking to our paper, will cer- 
tainly relapse into their old habits unless we go 
on. 

For the sake, therefore, of all these good peo- 
ple, and most especially for the satisfaction of the 
ladies, every one of whom we would love, if we 
possibly could, I have again wielded my pea 



214 SALMAGUNDI. 

with a most hearty determination to set the whole 
world to rights ; to make cherubims and seraphs 
of all the ftiir ones of this enelianting town, and 
raise the spirits of the poor Federalists, who, in 
truth, seem to be in a sad taking, ever since the 
American-Ticket niet with the accident of being 
so unhappily thrown out. 



TO LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

SIR : — I felt myself hurt and offended by Mr. 
Evergreen's terrible philippic against mod- 
ern music, in No. II. of your work, and was under 
serious apprehension that his strictures might 
bring the art, which I have the honor to profess, 
into contempt. The opinion of yourself and fra- 
ternity appears indeed to have a wonderful effect 
upon the town. 1 am told the ladies are all em- 
ployed in reading Bunyan and " Pamela," and the 
waltz has been entirely forsaken ever since the 
winter balls have closed. Under these apprehen- 
sions I should have addressed you before, had I 
not been sedulously employed, while the theatre 
continued open, in supporting the astonishing va- 
riety of the orchestra, and in composing a new 
chime of Bob-Major for Trinity Church, to be 
rung during the summer, beginning with ding- 
dong di-do, instead of di-do ding-dong. The cit- 
izens, especially those who live in the neighbor- 
hood of that harmonious quarter, will, no doubt, 
be infinitely delighted with this novelty. 



PERFECTION OF MODERN MUSIC. 215 

But to the object of this communication. So 
far, sir, from agreeing with Mr. Evergreen in 
thinking that all modern music is but tlie more 
dregs and drainings of the ancient, I trust, before 
this letter is concluded, I shall convince you and 
him that some of the late professors of this en- 
chanting art have completely distanced the paltry 
efforts of the ancients ; and that I, in particular, 
have at length brought it almost to absolute per- 
fection. 

The Greeks, simple souls ! were astonished at 
the powers of Oi'pheus, who made the woods and 
rocks dance to his lyre ; — of Amphion, who con- 
verted crotchets into bricks, and quavers into 
mortar ; and of Arion, who won upon the com- 
passion of the fishes. In the fervency of admi- 
ration, their poets fabled that Apollo had lent 
them his lyre, and inspired them with his own 
spirit of harmony. What then would they have 
said had they witnessed the wonderful effects of 
my skill ? had they heard me in the compass of a 
single piece, describe in glowing notes one of the 
most sublime operations of nature ; and not only 
make inanimate objects dance, but even speak ; 
and not only speak, but speak in strains of ex- 
quisite harmony ? 

Let me not, however, be understood to say 
that I am the sole author of this extraordinary 
improvement in the art, for I confess I took the 
hint of many of my discoveries from some of 
those meritorious productions that have lately 
come abroad and made so much noise under the 
title of overtures. From some of these, as, for 



216 SALMAGUNDI. 

instance, Lodoiska, and the battle of Marc^ngo, a 
gentleman, or a captain in the city militia, or an 
amazonian young lady may indeed acquire a toler- 
able idea of military tactics, and become very 
well experienced in the firing of musketry, the 
roaring of cannon, tiie rattling of drums, the 
whistling of fifes, braying of trumpets, groans of 
the dying, the trampling of cavalry, without ever 
going to the wars ; but it is more especially in the 
art of imitatintj inimitable things, and o:"ivinof the 
language of every passion and sentiment of the 
human mind, so as entirely to do away the ne- 
cessity of speech, that I particularly excel tiie 
most celebrated musicians of ancient and modern 
times. 

I think, sir, I may venture to say there is not 
a sound in the whole compass of nature which I 
cannot imitate, and even improve upon — nay, 
what I consider the perfection of my art, I have 
discovered a method of expressing, in the most 
striking manner, that undefinable, indescribable 
silence which accompanies the falling of snow. 

In order to prove to you that I do not arrogate 
to myself what I am unable to perform. I will 
detail to you the d liferent movements of a grand 
piece, which I pride myself upon exceedingly, 
called the " Breaking up of the Ice in the North 
River." 

The piece opens with a gentle andante affetu- 
oso, which ushers you into the Assembly-room in 
the State House at Albany, where the speaker 
addresses tiie farewell speech, informing the 
members that the ice is about breaking up, and 



OPERATIC. 217 

thanking them for their great services and good 
behavior in a manner so pathetic as to bring 
tears into their eyes. — Flourish of Jack-a-don- 
keys. — Ice cracks; Albany in a hubbub — air, 
"Three children sliding on the ice, all on a sum- 
mer's day." — Citizens quarreling in Dutch; — 
chorus of a tin trumpet, a cracked fiddle, and a 
hand-saw ! — allegro moderato. — Hard frost — ■ 
this, if given with proper spirit, luis a charming 
effect, and sets everybody's teeth chattering. — 
Symptoms of snow — consultation of old women 
who complain of pains in the bones and rheu- 
matics ; — air, "There was an old woman tossed 
up in a blanket," etc. — allegro staccato ; wagon 
breaks into the ice — people all run to see what 
is the matter; air, siciliano — ''Can you row the 
boat ashore, Billy boy, Billy boy ? " — andante — 
frost fish froze up in the ice — air, " Ho, why dost 
thou shiver and shake, Gaffer Gray, and why does 
thy nose look so blue?" — Flourish of twopenny 
trumpets and rattles — consultation of the North 
River Society — determine to set the North 
River on fire, as soon as it will burn — air, " O, 
what a fine kettle of fish." 

Part II. — Great Thaw. — This consists of 
tiie most melting strains, flowing so smoothly as 
to occasion a great overflowing of scientific rap- 
ture ; air, " One misty moisty morning." The 
House of Assembly breaks up — air, " The owls 
came out and flew about." — Assemblymen em- 
bark on their way to New York — air, " The 
ducks arid geese they all swim over, fal de ral," 
etc. — Vessel sets sail — chorus of mariners — 



218 SALMAGUNDI. 

" Steer her up, and let her gang." After this a 
rapid movement conducts you to New York — 
the North River Society hold a meeting at the 
corner of Wall Street, and determine to delay 
burning till all the Assemblymen are safe at home, 
for fear of consuming some of their own mem- 
bers, who belong to that respectable body. — Re- 
turn again to the capital. — Ice floats down the 
river — lamentation of skaters ; air, affetuoso — 
" I sigh and lament me in vain," etc. — Albanians 
cutting up sturgeon ; air, " O the roast beef of 
Albany." — Ice runs against Polopoy's Island with 
a terrible crash. This is represented by a fiei-ce 
fellow travelling with his fiddlestick over a huge 
bass viol, at the rate of one hundred and fifty 
bars per minute, and tearing the music to rags ; 
this being what is called execution. The great 
body of ice passes West Point, and is saluted by 
three or four dismounted cannon from Fort Put- 
nam — "Jefferson's March," by a full band — air, 
" Yankee Doodle," with seven ty-six variations, 
never before attempted, except by the celebrated 
eagle which flutters his wings over the copper- 
bottomed angel at Messrs. Patf's in Broadway. 
Ice passes New York — conch-shell sounds at a 
distance — ferrymen call o-v-e-r — people run 
down Courtlandt Street — ferry-boat sets sail — 
air, accompanied by the conch-shell, " We'll all 
go over the ferry — Rondeau — giving a particu- 
lar account of Brom, the Powles Hook admiral, 
who is supposed to be closely connected with the 
North River Society. — The Society make a grand 
attempt to fire the stream, but are utterly defeated 



FLUTE AND FIDDLE. 219 

by a remarkable high tide, which brings the plot 
to light, drowns upward of a thousand rats, and 
occasions twenty robins to break their necks.^ 
Society, not being discouraged, apply to " Com- 
mon Sense" for his lantern — air, "Nose, nose, 
jolly red nose." Flock of wild geese fly over 
the city — old wives chatter in the fog — cocks 
crow at Communipaw — drums beat on Gover- 
nor's Island. — Tlie whole to conclude with the 
blowing up of Sand's powder-house. 

Thus, sir, you perceive what wonderful powers 
of expression have been hitherto locked up in 
this enchanting art ; a whole history is here told 
without the aid of speech or writing ; and pro- 
vided the hearer is in tlie least acquainted with 
music, he cannot mistake a sinj;le note. As to 
the blowing up of the powder-house, I look upon 
it as a chef d^ceuvre^ which I am confident will 
delight all modern amateurs, who very properly 
estimate music in proportion to the noise it 
makes, and delight in thundering cannon and 
earthquakes. 

I must confess, however:, it is a very difficult 
part to manage, and I iiave already broken six 
pianos in giving it the proper force and effect. 
But I do not despair, nnd am quite certain that 
bv the time I have broken eight or ten more, I 
shall have brought it to such perfection as to be 
able to teach any young lady of tolerable ear to 
thunder it away, to the infinite delight of papa 
and mamma, and the great annoyance of those 
vandals who are so barbarous as to prefer the 

1 Vide, Solomon Lang. 



220 SALMAGUNDI. 

simple melody of a Scots air to the sublime effu- 
sions of modern musical doctors. 

In my warm anticipations of future improve- 
ment I have sometimes almost convinced myself 
that music will, in time, be brought to such a 
climax of perfection as to supersede the necessity 
of speech and writing ; and every kind of social 
intercourse be conducted by the flute and fiddle. 
The immense benefits that will result from this 
improvement must be plain to every man of the 
least consideration. In the present unhappy situ- 
ation of mortals, a man has but one way of mak- 
ing himself perfectly understood ; if he loses his 
speech, he must inevitably be dumb all the rest 
of his life ; but having once learned this new 
musical language, the loss of speech will be a 
mere trifle, not worth a moment's uneasiness. 
Not only this, Mr. L., but it will add much to 
the harmony of domestic intercourse ; for it is 
certainly much more agreeable to hear a lady 
give lectures on the piano than viva voce, in the 
usual discordant measure. This manner of dis- 
coursing may also, I think, be introduced with 
great efl"ect into our national assemblies, where 
every man, instead of wagging his tongue, should 
be obliged to flourish a fiddle-stick, by which 
means, if he said nothing to the purpose, he 
would, at all events, "discourse most eloquent 
music," which is more than can be said of most 
of them present. They might also sound their 
own trumpets without being obliged to a hireling 
scribbler, for an immortality of nine days, or sub- 
jected to the censure of eijotism. 



COCKLOFT ON HIS TRAVELS. 221 

But the most important result of this discovery 
is that it may be applied to the establishment of 
that great desideratum, in the learned world, a 
universal language. Wherever this science of 
music is cultivated, nothing more will lj)e neces- 
sary than a knowledge of its alphabet ; which, 
being almost tlie same everywhei'e, will amount 
to a universal medium of conununication. A 
man may thus, with his violin under his arm, 
a piece of rosin, and a few bundles of catgut, 
fiddle his way through the world, and never be 
at a loss to make himself understood. 
I am, etc.. 

Demy Semiquaver. 



THE STRANGER IN PENNSYLVANIA. 

BY JEREMY COCKLOFT, THE YOUNGER. 
CHAPTER I. 

C^ROSS the Delaware — knew I was in Penn- 
J sylvania, because all the people were fat and 
looked like the statue of William Penn — Bristol 
• — very remarkable for having nothing in it 
worth the attention of the traveller — saw Bur- 
lington on the opposite side of the river — fine 
place for pigeon-houses — and why? — Pennsyl- 
vania famous for barns — cattle in general better 
lodged than the farmers — barns appear to be 
built, as the old Roman peasant planted his trees, 
" for posterity and the immortal gods." Saw 



222 SALMAGUNDI. 

several fine bridges of two or three arches, built 
over dry places — wondered what could be the 
use of them — reminded me of the famous bridge 
at Madrid, built over no water — Chamouny 
— floating bridge made of pine logs fastened 
together by ropes of walnut bark — strange tliat 
the people who have such a taste for bridges 
should not have taken advantage of this river 
to indulge in their favorite kind of architec- 
ture! — expressed my surprise to a fellow pas- 
senger, who observed to me with great grav- 
ity, "that nothing was more natural than that 
people who build bridges over dry places should 
neglect them where they are really necessary " — 
could not, for the head of me, see to the bottom 
of the man's reasoning — about half an hour 
after it struck me that he had been quizzing me 
a little — didn't care much about that — revenge 
myself by mentioning him in ray book. Village 
of Washington — very pleasant, and remarkable 
for being built on each side of the road — houses 
all cast in the same mould — have a very Quaker- 
ish appearance, being built of stone, plastered and 
white-washed, and green doors, ornamented with 
brass knockers, kept very bright — saw several 
genteel young ladies scouring them — which was 
no doubt the reason of their brightness. Break- 
fasted at the Fox Chase — recommend this house 
to all gentlemen travelling for information, as 
the landlady makes the best buckwheat cakes 
in the whole world ; and because it bears the 
same name with a play, written by a young gen- 
tleman of Philadelphia, which, notwithstanding its 



PRINCETON STUDENTS. 223 

very considerable merit, was received at that city 
with indiifereiice and neglect, because it had no 
puns in it. Frankfort in the mud — very pictu- 
resque town, situated on the edge of a pleasant 
swamp — or meadow, as they call it — houses all 
built of turf, cut in imitation of stone — poor 
substitute — took in a couple of Princeton stu- 
dents, who were going on to the southward, to 
tell their papas (or rather their mammas) what 
fine manly little boys they were, and how nobly 
they resisted the authority of the trustees — 
both pupils of Godwin and Tom Paine — talked 
about the rights of man, the social compact, and 
the perfectibility of boys — hope their parents 
will whip them when they get home, and send 
them back to the college without any spending 
money. Turnpike gates — direction to keep to 
the right as the law directs — very good advice, 
in my opinion ; but one of the students swore he 
had no idea of submitting to this kind of op- 
pression, and insisted on the di-iver's taking the 
left passage, in order to show the world we 
were not to be imposed upon by such arbitrary 
rules — driver, who I believe, had been a student 
at Princeton himself, shook his head like a pro- 
fessor, and said it would not do. Entered Phila- 
delphia through the suburbs — four little markets 
in a herd — one turned into a school for young 
ladies — mem. young ladies early in the market 
here — pun — good. 



224 SALMAGUNDI 



CHAPTER II. 

Very 111 — confined to my bed with a violent 
fit of the pun mania — strangers always experi- 
ence an attack of the kind on their first arrival, 
and undergo a seasonmg as Europeans do in the 
West Indies, In my way from the stage-office 
to Renshaw's I was accosted by a good-looking 
young gentleman from New Jersey, who had 
caught the infection — he took me by the button 
and informed me of a contest that had lately 
taken place between a tailor and shoemaker 
about I forget what ; — Snip was pronounced a 
fellow of great capability^ a man of gentlemanly 
habits, who would doubtless suit everybody. The 
shoemaker bristled up at this, and waxed exceed- 
ing wroth — swore the tailor was but a half- 
souled fellow, and that it was to shew he was 
never cut-out for a gentleman. The choler of 
the tailor was up in an instant, he swore by his 
thimble that he would never pocket such an in- 
sult, but would baste any man who dared to re- 
peat it. — Honest Crispin was now worked up 
to his proper pitchy and was determined to yield 
the tailor no quarters ; — he vowed he would lose 
his all but what he would gain his ends. He 
resolutely held on to the la^t, and on his threat- 
ing to backstrap his 'adversary, the tailor was 
obliged to sheer off, declaring at the same time, 
that he would have him bound over. The young 
gentleman, having finished his detail, gave a 
most obstreperous laugh, and hurried off to tf 11 
his story to somebody else — Licentia punica, as 



ETYMOLOGICAL RESEARCHES. 225 

Horace observes — it did my business — I went 
home, took to my bed, and was two days con- 
lined with this singular complaint. 

Having, however, looked about me with the 
Argus eyes of a traveller, I have picked up 
enough in the course of my walk from the stage- 
office to the hotel, to give a full and impartial ac- 
count of this remarkable city. According to the 
good old rule, I shall begin with the etymology 
of its name, which, according to Linkum Fide- 
lius, Tom. LV., is clearly derived, either from the 
name of its first founder, viz. Philo Dripping- 
pan, or the singular taste of the aborigines, who 
flourished there on his arrival. Linkum, who is 
as shrewd a fellow as any theorist or F. S. A. 
for peeping with a dark lantern into the lumber 
garret of antiquity, and lugging out all the trash 
which was left there for oblivion by our wiser 
ancestors, supports liis opinion by a prodigious 
number of ingenious and inapplicable arguments ; 
but particularly rests his position on the known 
fact, that Philo Dripping-pan was remarkable for 
his predilection to eating, and his love of what 
the learned Dutch call doup. Our erudite au- 
thor likewise observes that the citizens are to 
this day noted for their love of " a sop in the 
pan," and their portly appearance, " except, in- 
deed," continues he, " the young ladies, who are 
perfectly genteel in their dimensions " — this, how- 
ever, he ill-naturedly enough attributes to their 
eating pickles, and drinking vinegar. 

The Philadelphians boast much of the situation 
and plan of their city, and well may they, since it 
15 



226 SALMAGUNDI. 

is, undoubtedly, as fair and square, and regular 
and right-angled, as any mechanical genius could 
have possibly made it. I am clearly of opinion 
that this humdrum regularity has a vast effect on 
the character of its inhabitants and even on their 
looks, " for you will observe," writes Linkum, 
"that they are an honest, worthy, square, good- 
looking, well-meaning, regular, uniform, straight- 
forward, clock-work, clear-headed, one-like-another, 
salubrious, upright, kind of people, who always 
go to work methodically, never put the cart be- 
fore the horse, talk like a book, walk mathemati- 
cally, never turn but in right angles, think 
syllogistically, and pun theoretically, according to 
the genuine rules of Cicero and Dean Swift ; 
— whereas the people of New York — God help 
tbem — tossed about over hills and dales, through 
lanes and alleys, and crooked streets — contin- 
ually mounting and descending, turning and 
twisting — whisking off at tangents, and left- 
angle-triangles, just like their own queer, odd, 
topsy-turvy, rantipole city, are the most irregular, 
crazy-headed, quicksilver, eccenti'ic, wliimwham- 
sical set of mortals that ever were jumbled to- 
gether in this uneven, villainous, revolving globe, 
and are the very antipodeans to the Philadel- 
phians." 

The streets of Philadelphia are wide and 
straight, which is wisely ordered, for the inhabi- 
tants having generally crooked noses, and most 
commonly travelling hard after them, the good 
folks would undoubtedly soon go to the wall, in 
the crooked streets of our city. This fact of the 



THE CITY OF PENN. 227 

crooked noses has not been hitherto remarked by 
any of our American travellers, but must strike 
every stranger of the least observation. There is, 
however, one place which 1 would recommend to 
all my fellow-citizens, who may come after me, 
as a promenade — I mean Dock street — the only 
street in Philadelphia that bears any resemblance 
to New York — how tender, how exquisite are 
the feelings awakened in the breast of a traveller, 
when his eye encounters some object which re- 
minds him of his far distant country ! The pen- 
sive New Yorker, having drank his glass of por- 
ter, and smoked his cigar after dinner (by the 
way I would- recommend Sheaif, as selling the 
best Philadelphia), may here direct his solitary 
steps and indulge in that mellow tenderness in 
which the sentimental Kotzebue erst delighted to 
wallow — he may recall the romantic scenery and 
graceful windings of Maiden Lane and Pearl 
street, trace the tumultuous gutter in its harmoni- 
ous meanderings, and almost fancy he beholds 
the moss-crowned roof of the Bear Market, or 
the majestic steeple of St. Paul's towering to 
the clouds. — Perhaps, too, he may have left be- 
hind him some gentle fair one, who, all the live- 
long evening, sits pensively at the window, lean- 
ing on her elbows, and counting the lingering, 
lame, and broken-winded moments that so tedi 
ously lengthen the hours which separate her from 
the object of her contemplations! — deliglitful 
X/ethe of the soul — sunshine of existence — wife 
and children poking up the cheerful evening fire 

— paper windows, mud walls, love in a cottage 

— sweet sensibility — and all that. 



228 SALMAGUNDI. 

Everybody has heard of the famous Bank of 
Pennsylvania, which, since the destruction of the 
tomb of Mausolus, and the Colossus of Rhodes, 
may fairly be estimated as one of the wonders of 
the world. My landlord thinks it unquestionably 
the finest building upon earth. The honest man 
has never seen the theatre in New York, or the 
new brick church at the head of Rector street, 
which when finished, will beyond all doubt be 
infinitely superior to the Pennsylvania barns 1 
noted before. 

Philadelphia is a place of great trade and com- 
merce — not but that it would have been much 
more so, that is, had it been built on the site of 
New York : but as New York has engrossed its 
present situation, I think Philadelphia must be 
content to stand where it does at present-^ at 
any rate it is not Philadelphia's fault, nor is it 
any concern of mine, so I shall not make myself 
uneasy about the affair. Besides to use Trim's 
argument, were that city to stand where New 
York does, it might perhaps have the misfortune 
to be called New York and not Philadelphia, 
which would be quite another matter, and this por- 
tion of my travels had undoubtedly been smoth- 
ered before it was born — which would have been 
a thousand pities indeed. 

Of the manufactures of Philadelphia, I can say 
but little, except that the people are famous for 
an excellent kind of confectionery, made from the 
drainings of sugar. The process is simple as any 
in Mrs. Glass's excellent and useful work (which 
I hereby recommend to the fair hands of all young 



THE LADIES. 229 

ladies, who are not occupied in reading Moore's 
poems) — you buy a pot — put your molasses in 
your pot (if you can beg, borrow, or steal 
your molasses it will come much cheaper than if 
you buy it) — boil your molasses to a proper con- 
sistency ; but if you boil it too much, it will be 
none the better for it — then pour it off and let 
it cool, or draw it out into little pieces about nine 
inches long, and put it by for use. This manu- 
facture is called by the Bostonians lasses candyy 
by the New Yorkers, cock-a-nee nee — but by 
the polite Philadelphians, by a name utterly im- 
possible to pronounce. 

The Philadelphia ladies are some of them beau- 
tiful, some of them tolerably good looking, and 
some of them, to say the truth, are not at all hand- 
some. They are, however, very agreeable in 
general, except those who are i-eckoned witty, 
who, if I might be allowed to speak my mind, are 
very disagreeable, particularly to young gentle- 
men, who are travelling for information. Being 
fond of tea-parties, they are a little given to crit- 
icism — but are in general remarkably discreet, 
and very industrious as I have been assured by 
some of my friends. Take them all in all, how- 
ever, they are much inferior to the ladies of New 
York, as plainly appears from several young gen- 
tlemen having fallen in love with some of our 
belles, after resisting all the female attractions of 
Philadelphia. From this inferiority, I except 
one, who is the most amiable, the most accom- 
plished, the most bewitching, and the most of 
everything that constitutes the divinity of woman 
— mem. — golden apple ! 



230 SALMAGUNDI. 

The amusements of the Philadelphians are dan- 
cing, punning, tea-parties, and theatrical exhibitions. 
In the first, they are far inferior to the young 
people of New York, owing to the misfortune of 
their mostly preferring to idle away time in the 
cultivation of the head instead of the heels. It is 
a melancholy fact that an infinite number of 
young ladies in Philadelphia, whose minds are 
elegantly accomplished in literature, have sacri- 
ficed to the attainment of such trifling acquisitions, 
the pigeon-wing, the waltz, the Cossack dance, and 
other matters of equal importance. On the other 
hand, they excel the New Yorkers in punning, and 
in tiie management of tea-parties. In New York 
you never hear, except from some young gentle- 
man just returned from a visit to Philadelphia, a 
single attempt at punning, and at a tea-party, the 
ladies in general are disposed close together, like 
a setting of jewels, or pearls round a locket, in all 
the majesty of good behavior — and if a gentle- 
man wishes to have a conversation with one of 
them, about the backwardness of the spring, the 
improvements in the theatre, or the merits of his 
horse, he is obliged to march up in the face of 
such volleys of eye-shot ! such a formidable ar- 
tillery of glances ! If he escapes annihilation, 
be should cry out a miracle ! and never encounter 
such dangers again. I remember to have once 
heard a very valiant British officer, who had 
served with great credit for some years in the 
train-bands, declare with a veteran oath, that 
sooner than encounter such deadly peril, he would 
fight his way clear through a London mob, though 



A DISCOMFITED OFFICER. 231 

he were pelted with brick-bats all the time. 
Some ladies who were present at this declaration 
of the gallant officer, were inclined to consider it 
a great compliment, until one, more knowing than 
the rest, declared, with a little piece of a sneer, 
*' that they were very mucli obliged to him for 
likening the company to a London mob, and their 
glances to brick-bats." The officer looked blue, 
turned on his heel, made a fine retreat, and went 
home with a determination to quiz the American 
ladies as soon as he got to London. 




NO. XL — TUESDAY, JUNE 2, 1807. 

LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELT 

KHAN, 

CAPTAIN OF A KETCH, TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL 
SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OP 
TRIPOLI. 



HE deep shadows of midnight gather 
around me ; the footsteps of the pas- 
IMfiJ^I sengers have ceased in the streets, and 
nothing disturbs the holy silence of the hour 
save the sound of the distant drums, mingled 
with the shouts, the bawlings, and the discordant 
revelry of his majesty, the Sovereign Mob. Let 
the hour be sacred to friendship, and consecrated 
to thee, O thou brother of my inmost soul ! 

O Asem ! I almost shrink at the recollection 
of the scenes of confusion, of licentious disorgan- 
ization which I have witnessed during the last 
three days. I have beheld this whole city, nay, 
this whole State, given up to the tongue and the 
pen; to the puffers, the bawlers, the babblers, 
and the slangwhange;rs. I have beheld the com- 
munity convulsed with a civil war, or civil talk ; 
individuals verbally massacred, families annihi- 
lated by whole sheets full, and slang wh angers 
coolly bathing their pens in ink and rioting in 



AN ELECTION. 233 

the slaughter of their thousands. I have seen, 
in short, that awful despot, the People, in the 
moment of unlimited power, wielding newspapers 
in one hand, and with the other scattering mud 
and filth about, like some desperate lunatic re- 
lieved from the restraints of his strait waistcoat. 
I have seen beggars on horseback, ragamuffins 
riding in coaches, and swine seated in places of 
honor ; I have seen liberty ; I have seen equal- 
ity ; I have seen fraternity. I have seen that 
great political puppet-show — an Election. 

A few days ago the friend, whom T have men- 
tioned in some of my former letters, called upon 
me to accompany him to witness this grand cere- 
mony ; and we forthwith sallied out to the polls, 
as he called them. Thouijli for several weeks 
before this splendid exhibition nothing else had 
been talked of, yet I do assure thee I was en- 
tirely ignorant of its nature ; and when, on com- 
ing up to a church, my companion informed me 
we were at the polls, I supposed that an election 
was some great religious ceremony, like the fast 
of Ramazan, or the great festival of Haraphat, 
so celebrated in the East. 

My friend, however, undeceived me at once, 
and entered into a long dissertation on the nature 
and object of an election, the substance of which 
was nearly to this effect : — 

" You know," said he, "^hat this country is 
engaged in a violent internal warfare, and suffers 
a variety of evils fi'om civil dissensions. An 
election is the grand trial of strength, the deci- 
sive battle when the belligerents draw out their 



234 SALMAGUNDI. 

forces in martial array ; when every leader, 
burning with warlike ardor, and encoui-aged by 
the shouts and acclamations of tatterdemalions, 
buffoons, dependents, parasites, toad-eaters, scrubs, 
vagrants, mumpers, ragamuffins, bravos, and beg- 
gars in his rear ; and puffed up by his bellows- 
blowing slang whangers, waves gallantly the ban- 
ners of faction, and presses forward to office and 
immortality ! 

" For a month or two previous to the critical 
period which is to decide this important affair, 
the whole community is in a ferment. Every 
man, of whatever rank or degree — such is the 
wonderful patriotism of the people — disinterest- 
edly neglects his business to devote himself to 
his country ;' and not an insignificant fellow but 
feels himself inspired, on this occasion, with as 
much warmth in favor of the cause he has es- 
poused, as if all the comfort of his life, or even 
his life itself, was dependent on the issue. Grand 
councils of war are,* in the first place, called by 
the different powers, which are dubbed general 
meetings, where all the head workmen of the 
party collect, and arrange the order of battle — 
appoint their different commanders, and their 
subordinate instruments, and furnish the funds 
indispensable for supplying the expenses of the 
war. Inferior councils are next called in the 
different classes or wards, consisting of young 
cadets, who are catiaidates for offices ; idlers who 
come there for mere curiosity ; and orators who 
appear for the purpose of detailing all the crimes, 
the faults, or the weaknesses of their opponents; 



POLITICAL ORATORY. 235 

and speaking the sense of the meeting^ as it is 
called ; for as the meeting generally consists of 
men whose quota of sense, taken individually, 
would make but a poor figure, these orators are 
appointed to collect it all in a lump ; when, I 
assure you, it makes a very formidable appear- 
ance, and furnishes sufficient matter to spin an 
oration of two or three hours. 

*' The orators who declaim at these meetings 
are, with a few exceptions, men of most profound 
and perplexed eloquence ; who are the oracles of 
barbers' shops, market-places, and porter-houses; 
and whom you may see every day at the corners 
of the streets, taking honest men prisoners by the 
button, and talking their ribs quite bare without 
mercy and without end. These orators, in ad- 
dressing an audience, generally mount a chair, a 
table, or an empty beer barrel, which last is sup- 
posed to afford considerable inspiration, and thun- 
der away their combustible sentiments at the 
heads of the audience, who are genei-ally so 
busily employed in smoking, drinking, and hear- 
ing themselves talk, that they seldom hear a word 
of the matter. This, however, is of little mo- 
ment: for as they come there to agree, at all 
events, to a certain set of resolutions, or articles 
of war, it is not • at all necessary to hear tlie 
speech ; more especially as few would understand 
it if they did. Do not suppose, however, that 
the minor persons of the meeting are entirely 
idle. Besides smoking and drinking, which are 
generally practiced, there are few who do not 
come with as great a desire to talk as the orator 



236 SALMAGUNDI. 

himself; each has his little circle of listeners, in 
the midst of whom he sets his hat on one side of 
his head, and deals out matter-of-fact information, 
and draws self-evident conclusions with the perti- 
nacity of a pedant, and to the great edification 
of his gaping auditors. Nay, the very urchins 
from the nursery, who are scarcely emancipated 
from the dominion of birch, on these occasions 
strut pigmy great men, bellow for the instruction 
of gray-bearded ignorance, and, like the frog in 
the fable, endeavor to puff themselves up to the 
size of the great object of their emulation — the 
principal orator. 

" But is it not preposterous to a degree," cried 
I, "for those puny whipsters to attempt to lecture 
age and experience ? They should be sent to 
school to learn better." 

" Not at all," replied my friend ; '- for as an 
election is nothing moi-e than a war of words, 
the man that can wag his tongue witli the great- 
est elasticity, whether he speaks to the purpose or 
not, is entitled to lecture at ward meetings and 
polls, and instruct all who are inclined to listen 
to him ; you may have remarked a ward meeting 
of politic dogs, where, although the great dog is, 
ostensibly, the leader, and makes the most noise, 
yet every little scoiuidrel of a cur has something 
to say ; and in proportion to his insignificance, 
fidgets, and worries, and puffs about mightily, in 
order to obtain the notice and approbation of his 
betters. Thus it is with these little, beardless, 
bread-and-butter politicians, who on this occasion 
escape from the jurisdiction of their mammas to 



ELECTION TACTICS. 237 

attend to the affairs of the nation. You will see 
them engaged in dreadful wordy contest with old 
cartmen, cobblers, and tailors, and plume them- 
selves not a little if they should chance to gain a 
victory. Aspiring spirits ! how interesting are 
the first dawnings of political greatness ! An 
election, my friend, is a nursery or hot- bed of 
genius in a logocracy ; and I look with enthu- 
siasm on a troop of these Lilliputian partisans, as 
so many chatterers, and oiators and puffers, and 
slang-whangers in embryo, who will one day take 
an important part in the quarrels and wordy wars 
of their country. 

" As the time for fighting the decisive battle 
approaches, appearances become more and more 
alarming; committees are appointed, who hold 
little encampments from whence they send out 
small detachments of tattlers, to reconnoitre, 
harass, and skirmish with the enemy, and, if 
possible, ascertain their numbers ; everybody 
seems big with the mighty event that is impend- 
ing ; the orators, they gradually swell up beyond 
their usual size ; the little orators, they grow 
greater and greater ; the secretaries of the ward 
committees strut about, looking like wooden ora- 
cles ; the puffers put on the airs of mighty con- 
sequence ; the slang-whangers deal out direful 
innuendoes, and threats of doughty import, and 
all is buzz, murmur, suspense, and sublimity ! 

" At length the day arrives. The storm that 
has been so long gathering and threatening in 
distant thunders, bursts forth in terrible explo- 
sion ; all business is at an end ; the whole city is 



238 SALMAGUNDI. 

in a tumult ; the people are running helter-skel- 
ter, they know not whither, and they know not 
why; the hackney coaches rattle through the 
streets with thundering vehemence, loaded with 
recruiting sergeants who have been prowling in 
cellars and caves, to unearth some miserable min- 
ion of poverty and ignorance, who will barter his 
vote for a glass of beer, or a ride in a coach with 
such Jine gentlemen! the buzzards of the party 
scamper from poll to poll, on foot or on horse- 
back ; and they worry from committee to com- 
mittee, and buzz, and fume, and talk big, and — 
do nothing ; like the vagabond drone, who wastes 
his time in the laborious idleness of see-saw-song 
and busy nothingness." 

I know not how long my friend would have 
continued his detail, had he not been interrupted 
by a squabble which took place between two old 
continentals, as they were called. It seems they 
had entered into an argument on the respective 
merits of their cause, and not being able to make 
each other clearly understood, resorted to what is 
called knock-down arguments, which form the 
superlative degree of argumentum ad hominem ; 
but are, in my opinion, extremely inconsistent 
with the true spirit of a genuine logocracy. 
After they had beaten each other soundly, and 
set the whole mob together by the ears, they 
came to a full explanation ; when it was discov- 
ered that they were both of the same way of 
thinking ; whereupon they shook each other hear- 
tily by the hand, and laughed with great glee at 
their humorous raisunderstandinfir. 



THE SOVEREIGN PEOPLE. 239 

I could not help being struck with the exceed- 
ing great number of ragged, dirty-looking persons 
that swaggered about the place, and seemed to 
think themselves the bashaws of the land. I in- 
quired of my friend if these people were em- 
ployed to drive away the hogs, dogs, and other 
intruders that might thrust themselves in and in- 
terrupt the ceremony ? 

" By no means," replied he ; " these are the 
representatives of the sovereign people, who come 
here to make governors, senators, and members 
of assembly, and are the source of all power and 
authority in this nation." 

" Preposterous ! " said I ; " how is it possible 
that such men can be capable of distinguishing 
between an honest man and a knave ; or, even if 
they were, will it not always happen that they 
are led by the nose by some intriguing dema- 
gogue, and made the mere tools of ambitious po- 
litical jugglers ? Surely it would be better to 
trust to Providence, or even to chance, for gover- 
nors, than resort to the discriminating powers 
of an ignorant mob. I plainly perceive the con- 
sequence. A man, who possesses superior talents, 
and that honest pride which ever accompanies 
this possession, will always be sacrificed by some 
creeping insect who will prostitute himself to 
familiarity with the lowest of mankind ; and, like 
the idolatrous Egyptian, worship the wallowing 
tenants of filth and mire." 

" All this is true enough," replied my friend, 
*' but after all, you cannot say but that this is a 
free country, and that the people can get drunk 



240 SALMAGUNDI. 

cheaper here, particularly at elections, than in the 
despotic countries of the East." I could not, 
with any degree of propriety or truth, deny this 
last assertion ; for just at that moment a patriotic 
brewer arrived with a load of beer, which, for a 
moment, occasioned a cessation of argument. 
The great crowd of buzzards, puffers, and " old 
continentals " of all parties, who throng to the 
polls, to persuade, to cheat, or to force the free- 
holders into the right way, and to maintain the 
freedom of suffrage, seemed for a moment to for- 
get their antipathies, and joined heartily in a 
copious libation of this patriotic and argumenta- 
tive beverage. 

These beer-barrels, indeed, seem to be most 
able logicians, well stored with tliat kind of sound 
argument best suited to the comprehension, and 
most relished by the mob, or sovereign people, 
who are never so tractable as when operated 
upon by this convincing liquor, which, in fact, 
seems to be imbued with the very spirit of a log- 
ocracy. No sooner does it begin its operation, 
than the tongue waxes exceeding: valorous, and 
becomes impatient for some mighty conflict. 
The puffer puts himself at the head of his body- 
guard of buzzards, and his legion of ragamuffins, 
and woe then to every unhappy adversary who 
is uninspired by the deity of the beer-barrel — 
he is sure to be talked, and argued, into complete 
insignificance. 

While I was making these observations, I was 
surprised to observe a bashaw, high in ofiice, 
shaking a fellow by the hand, that looked rather 



HUMILITY. 241 

more ragged than a scarecrow, and inquiring with 
apparent solicitude concerning the health of his 
family ; after which he slipped a little folded pa- 
per into his hand and turned away. I could 
not help applauding his humility in shaking the 
fellow's hand, and his benevolence in relieving 
his distresses, for [ imagined the paper contained 
something for the poor man's necessities ; and truly 
he seemed verging toward the last stage of star- 
vation. My friend, however, soon undeceived me 
by saying that this was an elector, and that the 
bashaw had merely given him the list of can- 
didates for whom he was to vote. 

" Ho ! ho ! " said T, " then he is a particular 
friend of the bashaw ? " 

" By no means," replied my friend, " the ba- 
shaw will pass him without notice, the day after 
the election, except, perhaps, just to drive over 
him with his coach." 

My friend then proceeded to inform me that 
for some time before, and during the continuance 
of an election, there was a most delectable court- 
ship, or intrigue carried on between the great 
bashaws and the mother mob. That mother Mob 
generally preferred the attentions of the rabble, 
or of fellows of her own stamp ; but would some- 
times condescend to be treated to a feasting, or 
anything of that kind, at the bashaw's expense I 
Nay, sometimes when she was in good humor, she 
would condescend to toy with him in her rough 
way : but woe to the bashaw who attempted to 
be familiar with her, for she was the most petu- 
lant, cross, crabbed, scolding, thieving, scratching, 
16 



242 SALMAGUNDI. 

toping, wrongheaded, rebellious, and abominable 
iermaaant that ever was let loose in the world to 
the confusion of honest gentlemen bashaws. 

Just then a fellow came round and distributed 
amon» the crowd a number of handbills, written 
by the ghost of Washington, the fame of whose 
illustrious actions, and still more illustrious virtues, 
have reached even the remotest regior»s of the 
East, and who is venerated by this people as the 
Father of his country. On reading this paltry 
paper, I could not restrain my indignation. " In- 
sulted hero,'' cried I, " is it thus thy name is pro- 
faned, thy memory disgraced, thy spirit drawn 
down from heaven to administer to the brutal vi- 
olence of party rage ? It is thus the necroman- 
cers of the East, by their infernal incantations, 
sometimes call up the shades of the just, to give 
their sanction to frauds, to lies, and to every spe- 
cies of enormity." My friend smiled at my 
warmth, and observed, that raising ghosts, and 
not only raising them but making them speak, 
was one of the miracles of election. " And be- 
lieve me," continued he, " there is good reason for 
the ashes of departed heroes being disturbed on 
these occasions, for such is the sandy foundation 
of our government, that there never happens an 
election of an alderman, or a collector, or even a 
constable, but we are in imminent danger of los- 
ing our liberties, and becoming a province of 
France, or tributary to the British islands." '' By 
the hump of Mahomet's camel," said I, " but this 
is only another striking example of the prodigious 
great scale on which everything is transacted in 
this country 1 " 



A ROW. ' 243 

By this time I had become tired of the scene ; 
my head ached with the uproar of voices, ming- 
ling in all the discordant tones of triumphant 
exclamation, nonsensical argument, intemperate 
reproach, and drunken absurdity. The confu- 
sion was such as no language can adequately 
describe, and it seemed as if all the restraints of 
decency, and all tlie bands of law, had been 
broken and given place to the wide ravages of 
licentious brutality. These, thought I, are the 
orgies of liberty ! these are manifestations of the 
spirit of independence ! these are the symbols of 
man's sovereignty ! Head of Mahomet ! with 
what a fatal and inexorable despotism do empty 
names and ideal phantoms exercise their domin- 
ion over the human mind ! The experience of 
ages has demonstrated, that in all nations, bar- 
barous or enlightened, the mass of the people, 
the mob, must be slaves, or they will be tyrants ; 
but their tyranny will not be long : some ambi- 
tious leader, having at first condescended to be 
their slave, will at length become their master ; 
and in proportion to the vileness of his former 
servitude, will be the severity of his subsequent 
tyranny. Yet, with innumerable examples staring 
them in the face, the people still bawl out lib- 
erty ; by which they mean nothing but freedom 
from every species of legal restraint, and a war- 
rant foi* all kinds of licentiousness : and the 
bashaws and leaders, in courting the mob, convince 
them of their power ; and by administering to 
their passions, for the purposes of ambition, at 
length learn, by fatal experience, that he who 



244 SALMAGUNDI. 

worships the beast that carries him on his back, 
will sooner or later be thrown into the dust, and 
trampled under foot by the animal who has 
learnt the secret of its power, by this very ado- 
ration. Ever thine, Mustapha.. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

MINE UNCLE JOHN. 



TO those whose habits of abstraction may 
have let them into some of the secrets of 
their own minds, and whose freedom from daily 
toil has left them at leisure to analyze their feel- 
ings, it will be nothing new to say that the 
present is peculiarly the season of remembrance. 
The flowers, the zephyrs, and the warblers of 
spring, returning after their tedious absence, 
bring naturally to our recollection past times 
and buried feelings ; and the whispers of the 
full-foliaged grove fall on the ear of contempla- 
tion, like the sweet tones of far distant friends 
whom the rude jostlers of the world have 
severed from us and cast far beyond our reach. 
It is at such times, that, casting backward many 
a lingering look, we recall, with a kind of sweet- 
souled melancholy, the days of our youth, and 
the jocund companions who started with us the 
race of life, but parted midway in the journey 
to pursue some winding path that allured them 
with a prospect more seducing, and never re- 



MY UNCLE JOHN. 245 

turned to us again. It is then, too, if we have 
been afflicted with any heavy sorrow, if we have 
even lost — and who has not! — an old friend or 
chosen companion, that his shade will hover 
around us ; the memory of his virtues press on 
the heart ; and a thousand endearing recollec- 
tions, forgotton amidst the cold pleasures and 
midnight dissipations of winter, arise to our re- 
membrance. 

These speculations bring to my mind my 
uncle John, the history of whose loves and dis- 
appointments I have promised to the world. 
Though I must own myself much addicted to 
forgetting my promises, yet, as I iiave been so 
happily reminded of this, I believe I must pay 
it at once, " and there is an end." Lest my 
readers — good-natured souls that they are! — 
should, in the ardor of peeping into millstones, 
take my uncle for an old acquaintance, 1 here 
inform them, that the old orentleman died a o-reat 
many years ago, and it is impossible they should 
ever have known him. I pity them — for they 
would have known a good-natured, benevolent 
man, whose example might have been of service. 

The last time I saw my uncle John, was fif- 
teen years ago, when I paid him a visit at his 
old mansion. I found him reading a newspaper 
— for it was election-time, and he was always a 
warm Federalist, and had made several converts 
to the true political faith in his time ; particu- 
larly one old tenant who always, just before the 

election, became a violent anti in order that 

lie might be convinced of his errors by my 



246 SALMAGUNDI. 

uncle, who never failed to reward his conviction 
by some substantial benefit. 

After we had settled the affairs of the nation, 
and I had paid my respects to the old family 
chroniclers in the kitchen — an indispensable 
ceremony — the old gentleman exclaimed, with 
heartfelt glee, " Well, I suppose you are for a 
trout-fishing; I have got everything prepared; 
but first you must take a walk with me to see 
my improvements." 1 was obliged to consent ; 
though 1 knew my uncle would lead me a most 
villainous dance, and in all probability treat me 
to a quagmire, or a tumble into a ditch. If my 
readers choose to accompany me in this expedi- 
tion, they are welcome ; if not, let them stay 
at home like lazy fellows — and sleep — or be 
hanged. 

Though I had been absent several years, yet 
there was very little alteration in the scenery, 
and every object retained the same features it 
bore when I was a school-boy : for it was in this 
spot that I grew up in the fear of ghosts, and in 
the breaking of many of the ten commandments. 
The brook, or river, as they would call it in 
Europe, still murmured with its wonted sweet- 
ness through the meadow ; and its banks were 
still tufted with dwarf willows, that bent down 
to the surface. The same echo inhabited the 
valley, and the same tender air of repose per- 
vaded the whole scene. Even my good uncle 
was but little altered, except that his hair was 
grown a little grayer, and his forehead had lost 
some of its former smoothness. He had, however, 



A RURAL WALK. 247 

lost nothing of his former activity, and huighed 
heartily at the difficulty I found in keeping up 
with him as he stumped through bushes, and 
briers, and hedges ; talking all the time about his 
improvements, and telling what he would do 
with such a spot of ground and such a tree. At 
length, after showing me his stone fences, his 
famous two-year-old bull, his new invented cart, 
which was to go before the horse, and his Eclipse 
colt, he was pleased to return home to dinner. 

After dinner and returning thanks — which 
with him was not a ceremony merely, but an 
offering from the heart — my uncle opened his 
trunk, took out his fishing-tackle, and, without 
saying a word, sallied forth with some of those 
truly alarming steps which Daddy Neptune once 
took when he was in a great hurry to attend the 
affair of the siege of Troy. Trout-fishing was 
my uncle's favorite sport ; and, though I always 
caught two fish for his one, he never would ac- 
knowledge my superiority ; but puzzled himself 
often and often, to account for such a singular 
phenomenon. 

Following the current of the brook, for a mile 
or two, we retraced many of our old haunts, and 
told a hundred adventures which had befallen us 
at different times. It was like snatching the 
hour-glass of time, inverting it, and rolling back 
again the sands that had marked the lapse of 
years. At length the shadows began to lengthen, 
the south wind gradually settled into a perfect 
calm, the sun threw his rays through the trees 
on the hill-tops in golden lustre, and a kind of 



248 SALMAGUNDI. 

Sabbath stillness pervaded the whole valley, indi- 
cating that the hour was fast approaching which 
was to relieve for a while the farmer from liis 
rural labor, the ox from his toil, the school urchin 
from his primer, and bring the loving ploughman 
home to the feet of his blooming dairy-maid. 

As we were watching in silence the last rays 
of the sun, beaming their farewell radiance on the 
high hills at a distance, my uncle exclaimed, in a 
kind of half desponding tone, while he rested 
his arm over an old tree that had fallen : " I know 
not how it is, my dear Launce, but sucii an even- 
ing, and such a still, quiet scene as this, always 
makes me a little sad ; and it is at such a time I 
am most apt to look forward with regret to the 
period when this farm, on which ' 1 have been 
young but now am old,' and QXQry object around 
me that is endeared by long acquaintance — when 
all these and I must shake hands and part. I 
have no fear of death, for my life has afforded 
but little temptation to wickedness ; and when I 
die, I hope to leave behind me more substantial 
proofs of virtue than will be fonnd in my epitaph, 
and more lasting memorials than churches built 
or hospitals endowed, with wealth wrung from the 
hard hand of poverty, by an unfeeling landlord or 
unprincipled knave ; but still, when I pass such a 
day as this and contemplate such a scene, I can- 
not help feeling a latent wisli to linger yet a little 
longer in this peaceful asylum ; to enjoy a little 
more sunshine in this world, and to have a few 
more fishing matches with my boy." As he end- 
ed, he raised his hand a little from the fallen tiee, 



A CAUTIOUS MAN. 249 

fliid, dropping it languidly by his side, turned him- 
self toward home. The sentiment, the look, the 
action, all seemed to be prophetic. And so they 
were, for when I shook him by the hand, and bade 
him farewell the next morning — it was for the 
last time ! 

He died a bachelor, at the age of sixty-three, 
thousrh he had been all his life tryini? to G^et mar- 
ried, and always thought himself on the point of 
accomplishing his wishes. His disappointments 
were not owing either to the deformity of his mind 
or person ; for in his youth he was reckoned 
handsome, and 1 myself can witness for him that 
he had as kind a heart as ever was fashioned by 
heaven ; neither were they owing to his poverty 

— which sometimes stands in an honest man's 
way — for he was born to the inheritance of a 
small estate which was sufficient to e^^tablish his 
claim to the title of " one well to do in the world." 
The truth is, my uncle had a prodigious antipathy 
to doing things in a hurry. " A man should con- 
sider," said he to ine once, " that he can always 
get a wife, but cannot always get rid of her. For 
my part," continued he, " I am a younn; fellow, 
with the world befc^re me " — he was about forty ! 

— " and am resolved to look sharp, wei<i;h matters 
well, and know what's what, before I marry : in 
short, Launce, / don't intend to ,do the thing in a 
hurry, depend upon itr On this whim wham he 
proceeded. He began with young girls, and end- 
ed with widows. The girls he courted until they 
grew old maids, or married out of pure appre- 
hension of incuiring certain penalties hereafter; 



250 SALMAGUNDI. 

and the widows, not having quite as much pa- 
tience, generally, at the end of a year, while the 
good man thought himself in the high road to suc- 
cess, married some harum-scarum young fellow 
who had not such an antipathy to doing tJiings in 
a hurry. 

My uncle would have inevitably sunk under 
these repeated disappointments — for he did not 
want sensibility — had he not hit upon a discov- 
ery which set all to rights at once. He consoled 
his vanity — for he was a little vain, and soothed 
his pride — which was his master passion — by 
telling his friends very significantly, while his eye 
would flash triumph, ^Hhathe might have hadher^ 
Those who know how much of the bitterness of 
disappointed affection arises from wounded vanity 
and exasperated pride, will give my uncle credit 
for this discovery. 

My uncle had been told by a prodigious num- 
ber of married men, and had read in an innumer- 
able quantity of books, that a man could not pos- 
sibly be happy except in the marriage state ; so 
he determined at an early age to marry, that he 
might not lose his otdy chance for happiness. 
He, accordingly, forthwith paid his addresses to 
the daughter of a neighboring gentleman farmer, 
who was reckoned the beauty of the whole world ; 
El phrase by which the honest country people mean 
nothing more than the circle of their acquaintance, 
or that territory of land which is within sight of 
the smoke of their own hamlet. 

This young lady, in addition to her beauty, was 
highly accomplished, for she had spent five or six 



AN ACCOMPLISHED LADY. 251 

months at a board in o^-school in town, where she 
learned to work pictures in satin and paint sheep, 
that might be mistaken for wolves ; to hold up 
her head, sit straight in her chair, and to think 
every species of useful acquirement beneatli her 
attention. When she returned home, so complete- 
ly had she forgotten everything she knew before, 
that on seeing one of the maids milking a cow, 
she asked her father, with an air of most enchant- 
ing ignorance, " what tliat odd-looking thing was 
doing to that queer animal ? " The old man shook 
his head at this ; but the mother was delighted at 
these symptoms of gentility, and so enamored of 
her daughter's accomplishments that she actually 
got framed a picture worked in satin by the young 
lady. It represented the tomb scene in Romeo 
and Juliet. Romeo was dressed in an orange- 
colored cloak, fastened round his neck with a laige 
golden clasp ; a white satin tamboured waistcoat, 
leather breeches, blue silk stockings, and white 
topped boots. The amiable Juliet shone in a 
flame-colored gown, most gorgeously bespangled 
with silver stars, a high crowned muslin cap that 
reached to the top of the tomb ; on her feet she 
wore a pair of short-quai-fered high-heeled shoes, 
and her waist was the exact fac-simile of an in- 
verted sugarloaf. The head of the '' noble county 
Paris " looked like a chimney sweeper's brush 
that had lost its handle, and the cloak of the 
good Friar hung about him as gracefully as the 
armor of a rhinoceios. The good lady considered 
this picture as a splendid proof of her daughter's 
acconiplishments, and hung it up in the best par- 



252 SALMAGUNDI. 

lor, as ail honest tradesman does his certificate of 
admission into that enlightened body yclept the 
Mechanic Society. 

With this accomplished young lady then did 
my uncle John become deeply enamored, and, as 
it was his first love, he determined to bestir him- 
self in an extraordinary manner. Once at least 
in a fortnight, and generally on a Sunday evening, 
he would put on his leather breeches, for he was 
a great beau, mount his gray horse Pepper, and 
ride over to see his Miss Pamela, though she lived 
upward of a mile off, and he was obliged to pass 
close by a churchyard, wliich at least a hundred 
creditable persons would swear was haunted ! 
Miss Pamela could not be insensible to such 
proofs of attachment, and accordingly received 
him with considerable kindness ; her mother al- 
ways left the room when he came, and my uncle 
had as good as made a declaration, by saying, one 
eveninor, very significantlv, " that he believed that 
he should soon change his condition ; " when, some- 
how or other, he began to think he was doing 
things in too great a hurry^ and that it was high 
time to consider ; so he considered near a month 
about it, and there is no saying how much longer 
he might have spun the thread of his doubts had 
he not been roused from this state of indecision, 
by the news that liis mistress had married an 
attorney's apprentice, whom she had seen the Sun- 
day V)efore at church ; where he had excited the 
applauses of the whole congregation by the invin- 
cible gravity with which he listened to a Dutch 
.sermon. The young people in the neighborhood 



/ MIGHT HAVE HAD HER. 253 

laughed a good deal at my uncle on the occasion, 
but he only shrugged his shoulders, looked mys- 
terious, and replied, •' Tut, hoys! I might have had 
herr 

NOTE BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

Our publisher, who is busily engaged in printing a celebra- 
ted work, which is perhaps more generally read in this city 
than any other book, not excepting the Bible — I mean the 
New York Directory — has begged so hard that we will not 
overwhelm him with too much of a good thing, that we have, 
with LangstatPs approbation, cut short the residue of uncle 
John's amours. In all probability it will be given in a future 
number, whenever Launcelot is in the humor for it — he is 
such an odd — but mum, for fear of another suspension. 





NO. XII. — SATURDAY, JUNE 27, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

OME men delight in the study of plants, 
in the dissection of a leaf, or in the con- 
tour and complexion of a tulip ; others 
are charmed with the beauties of the feathered 
race, or the varied hues of the insect tribe. A nat- 
uralist will spend hours in the fatiguing pursuit 
of a butterfly, and a man of the ton will waste 
whole years in the chase of a fine lady. I feel a 
respect for their avocations, for my own are some- 
what similar. I love to open the great volume 
of human character ; to me the examination of 
a beau is more interesting than that of a daffodil 
or narcissus, and I feel a thousand times more 
pleasui'e in catching a new view of human nature, 
than in kidnapping the most gorgeous butterfly — 
even an Emperor of Morocco himself! 

In my present situation I have ample room for 
the indulgence of this taste ; for, perhaps, there 
is not a house in this city more fertile in subjects 
for the anatomist of human character, than my 
Cousin Cockloft's. Honest Christopher, as I have 
before mentioned, is one of those hearty old cav- 
aliers who pride themselves upon keeping up the 
good, honest, unceremonious hospitality of old 



ODD HUMANITIES. 255 

times. He is never so happy as when he has 
drawn about him a knot of sterling-hearted asso- 
ciates, and sits at the liead of his table dispensing 
a warm, cheering welcome to all. His counte- 
nance expands at every glass and beams forth 
emanations of hilarity, benevolence, and good-fel- 
lowship, that inspiie and gladden every guest 
around him. It is no wonder, therefore, that such 
excellent social qualities should attract a host of 
friends and guests ; in fact, my cousin is almost 
overwhelmed with them, and they all, uniformly, 
pronounce old Cockloft to be one of the finest old 
fellows in the world. His wine also always 
comes in for a good share of their approbation ; 
nor do they forget to do honor to Mrs. Cockloft's 
cookery, pronouncing it to be modeled after the 
most approved recipes of Heliogabalus and Mrs. 
Glasse. The variety of company thus attracted 
is particularly pleasing to me ; for, being consid- 
ered a privileged person in the family, I can sit 
in a corner, indulge in my favorite amusement 
of observation, and retreat to my elbow-chair like 
a bee to his hive, whenever I have collected suf- 
ficient food for meditation. 

Will Wizard is particularly efficient in adding 
to the stock of originals which frequent our house ; 
for he is one of the most inveterate hunters of 
oddities 1 ever knew ; and his first care, on mak- 
ing a new acquaintance, is to gallant him to old 
Cockloft's, where he never fails to receive the 
freedom of the house in a pinch from his gold 
box. Will has, without exception, the queerest, 
most eccentric, and indescribable set of intimates 



256 SALMAGUNDI. 

that ever man possessed ; how he became ac- 
quainted with them I cannot conceive, except by 
supposing there is a secret attraction or unintel- 
ligible sympathy that unconsciously draws together 
oddities of every soil. 

Will's great crony for some time was Tom 
Straddle, to whom he took a great liking. Strad- 
dle had just arrived in an importation of hard- 
ware, fresh from the city of Birmingham, or 
rather, as the most learned English would call it, 
Brummagem^ so famous for its manufactories of 
gimlets, penknives, and pepper-boxes ; and where 
they make buttons and beaux enough to inundate 
our whole country. He was a young man of 
considerable standing in the manufactory at Bir- 
mingham, sometimes had the honor to hand his 
master's daughter into a tim-whisky, was the ora- 
cle of the tavern he frequented on Sundays, and 
could beat all his associates, if you would take his 
word for it, in boxing, beer-drinking,jumping over 
chairs, and imitating cats in a gutter and opera 
singers. Straddle was, moreover, a member of a 
Catch Club, and was a great hand at ringing bob- 
majors ; he was, of course, a complete connoisseur 
of music, and entitled to assume that character at 
all performances in the art. He was likewise a 
member of a Spouting Club, had seen a company 
of strolUug actors perform in a barn, and had even, 
like Abel Drugger, " enacted " tlie part of Major 
Sturgeon with considerable applause ; he was con- 
sequently a profound critic, and fully authorized 
to turn up his nose at any American performances. 
He had twice partaken of annual dinners, given 



TOM STRADDLE. 257 

to the head manufacturers of Birminf^ham, where 
he had the good fortune to get a taste of turtle 
and turbot, and a smack of champagne and Bur- 
gundy ; and he had heard a vast deal of the roast- 
beef of Old England ; he was therefore epicure 
sufficient to d — n every dish, and every glass of 
wine he tasted in America, though, at the same 
time, lie was as voracious an animal as ever 
crossed the Atlantic. Straddle had been splashed 
half-a-dozen times by the carriages of nobility, 
and had once the superlative felicity of being 
kicked out of doors by the footman of a noble 
duke; he could, therefore, talk of nobility and de- 
spise the untitled plebeians of America. In short, 
Straddle was one of those dapper, bustling, florid, 
round, self impoi'tant ^'' gemmen " who bounce upon 
us, half beau, half button-maker : undertake to 
give us the true polish of the hon ton, and en- 
deavor to inspire us with a proper and dignified 
contempt of our native country. 

Straddle was quite in raptures when his em- 
ployers determined to send him to America as an 
ngenf. He considered himself as going among a 
nation of barbarians, where he would be received 
as a prodigy ; he anticipated, with a proud satis- 
faction, the bustle and confusion his arrival would 
occasion ; the crowd that would throng to gaze at 
him as he passed through the streets ; and had 
little doubt but that he should occasion as much 
curiosity as an Indian chief or a Tark in the 
streets of Birmingham. He had heard of the 
beauty of our women, and chuckled at the thought 
of liow completely he should eclipse their unpol- 



258 SALMAGUNDI. 

ishod beaux, and the number of despairing lovcra 
that would mourn the hour of his arrival. I am 
even informed by Will Wizard that he put good 
store of beads, spike-nails, and looking-glasses in 
his trunk to win the affections of the fair ones as 
they paddled about in their bark canoes. The 
reason Will gave for this error of Straddle's, 
respecting our ladies, was, that he had read in 
Guthrie's Geograpiiy that the aborigines of Amer- 
ica were all savages ; and not exactly understand- 
ing the word "aborigines," he applied to one of 
his fellow-apprentices, who assured him that it 
was the Latin word for inhabitants. 

Wizard used to tell another anecdote of Strad- 
dle, which always put him in a passion : Will 
swore that the captain of the ship told him, that 
when Straddle heard they were off the banks of 
Newfoundland, he insisted upon going on shore 
there to gather some good cabbages, of which he 
was excessively fond. Straddle, however, denied 
all this, and declared it to be a mischievous quiz 
of Will Wizard ; who indeed often made himself 
merry at his expense. However this may be, 
certain it is, he kept his tailor and shoemaker 
constantly employed for a month before his de- 
parture ; equipped himself with a smart crooked 
stick about eighteen inches long, a pair of 
breeches of most unheard-of length, a little short 
pair of Hoby's white-topped boots, that seemed to 
stand on tip-toe to reach his breeches, and his hat 
had the true trans-atlantic declination toward his 
right ear. The fact was — nor did he make any 
secret of it — he was determined to ^^ astonish the 
natives a few ! " 



BRUMMAGEM SUFFERING. 259 

Straddle was not a little disappointed on his 
arrival, to find the Americans were rather more 
civilized than he had imagined ; he was suffered 
to walk to his lodgings unmolested by a crowd, 
and even unnoticed by a single individual ; no 
love-letters came pouring in upon him ; no rivals 
lay in wait to assassinate him ; his very dress ex- 
cited no attention, for there were many fools 
dressed equally ridiculously with himself. This 
was mortifying indeed to an aspiring youth, who 
had come out with the idea of astonishing and 
captivating. He was equally unfortunate in his 
pretensions to the character of critic, connoisseur, 
and boxer ; he condemned our whole dramatic 
corps, and everything appertaining to the theatre ; 
but his critical abilities were ridiculed ; he found 
fault with old Cockloft's dinner, not even sparing 
his wine, and was never invited to the house 
afterward ; he scoured the streets at night, and 
was cudgeled by a sturdy watchman ; he hoaxed 
an honest mechanic, and was soundly kicked. 
Thus disappointed in all his attempts at notoriety, 
Straddle hit on the expedient which was resorted 
to by the Giblets — he determined to take the 
town by storm. He accordingly bought horses 
and equipages, and forthwith made a furious dash 
at style in a gig and tandem. 

As Straddle's finances were but limited, it may 
easily be supposed that his fashionable career in- 
fringed a little upon his consignment, which was 
indeed the case, for, to use a true cockney phrase, 
Brummagem suffered. But this was a circum- 
stance that made little impression upon Straddle, 



260 SALMAGUNDI. 

who was now a lad of spirit, and lads of spirit 
always despise the sordid cares of keeping another 
man's money. Suspecting this circumstance, I 
never could witness any of his exhibitions of 
style, without some whimsical association of ideas. 
Did he give an entertaiiunent to a host of guzzling 
friends, I immediately fancied them gormandizing 
heartily at the expense of poor Birmingham, and 
swallowing a consignment of hand-saws and 
razors. Did I behold him dashing through 
Broadway in liis gig, I saw him, " in my mind's 
eye," driving tandem on a nest of tea-boards ; 
nor could I ever contemplate his cockney ex- 
hibitions of horsemanship, but my mischievous 
imagination would picture him spurring a cask 
of hardware, like rosy Bacchus bestriding a beer 
barrel, or the little gentleman who bestraddles 
the world in the front of Hutching's almanac. 

Straddle was equally successful with the Gib- 
lets, as may well be supposed ; for though pedes- 
trian merit may strive in vain to become fashion- 
able in Gotham, yet a candidate in an equipage 
is always recognized, and like Philip's ass, laden 
with gold, will gain admittance everywhere. 
Mounted in his curricle or liis gig, the candidate 
is like a statue elevated on a high pedestal, his 
merits are discernible from afar, and strike the 
dullest optics. O, Gotham, Gotham ! most en- 
lightened of cities ! — how does my heart swell 
with delight when I behold your sapient inhabi- 
tants lavishing their attention with such wonder- 
ful discernment ! 

Thus Straddle became quite a man of ton, and 



STRADDLE'S SUCCESS. 261 

was caressed, and courted, and invited to dinners 
and balls. Wliatever was absurd or ridiculous 
in him before, was now declared to be the style. 
He criticised our theatre, and was listened to 
with reverence. He pronounced our musical 
entertainments barbarous ; and the judgment 
of Apollo himself would not have been more 
decisive. He abused our dinners : and the god 
of eating, if there be any such deity, seemed to 
speak thro*ugh his organs. He became at once 
a man of taste, for he put his malediction on 
everything ; and his arguments were conclusive, 
for he supported every assertion with a bet. He 
was likewise pronounced, by the learned in the 
fashionable world, a young man of great research 
and deep observation ; for he had sent home, as 
natural curiosities, an ear of Indian corn, a pair 
of moccasins, a belt of wampum, and a four- 
leaved clover. He had taken great pains to en- 
rich this curious collection with an Indian and a 
cataract, but without success. In fine, the people 
talked of Straddle and his equipage, and Straddle 
talked of his horses, until it was impossible for 
the most critical observer to pronounce, whether 
Straddle or his horses were most admired, or 
whether Straddle admired himself or his horses 
most. 

Straddle was now in the zenith of his glory. 
He swaggered about parlors and drawing-rooms 
with the same unceremonious confidence he used 
to display in the taverns at Birmingham. He 
accosted a lady as he would a bar-maid ; and this 
was pronounced a certain proof that he had been 



262 SALMAGUNDI. 

nsed to better company in Birmingham. He be- 
came the great man of all the .taverns between 
New York and Harlem, and no one stood a 
chance of being accommodated, until Straddle 
and his horses were perfectly satisfied. He 

d d the landlords and waiters with the best 

air in the world, and accosted them with the true 
gentlemanly familiarity. He staggered from the 
dinner-table to the play, entered the box like a 
tempest, and staid long enough to be bored to 
death, and to bore all those who had the mis- 
fortune to be near him. From thence he dashed 
off to a ball time enough to flounder through a co- 
tillon, tear half a dozen gowns, commit a num- 
ber of other depredations, and make the whole 
company sensible of his infinite condescension 
in coming amongst them. The people of Go- 
tham thought him a prodigious fine fellow ; the 
young bucks cultivated his acquaintance with 
the most persevering assiduity ; and his retainers 
were sometimes complimented with a seat in his 
curricle, or a ride on one of his fine horses. The 
belles were delighted with the attentions of such 
a fashionable gentleman, and struck with astonish- 
ment at his learned distinctions between wrought 
scissors and those of cast-steel ; together with his 
profound dissertations on buttons and horse flesh. 
The rich merchants courted his acquaintance be- 
cause he was an Englishman, and their wives 
treated him with great deference because he had 
come from beyond seas. I cannot help here ob- 
serving that your salt water is a marvelous great 
sharpener of men's wits, and I intend to recom- 



A BREAK UP. 263 

mend it to some of my acquaintance in a particular 
essay. 

Straddle continued his brilliant career for only 
a short time. His prosperous journey over the 
turnpike of fashion was checked by some of 
those stumbling-blocks in the way of aspiring 
youth, called creditors, or duns — a race of peo- 
ple who, as a celebrated writer observes, "are 
hated by gods and men." Consignments slack- 
ened, whispers of distant suspicion floated in the 
dark, and those pests of society, the tailors and 
shoemakers, rose in rebellion against Straddle. 
In vain were all his remonstrances, in vain did 
he prove to them that though he had given them 
no money, yet he had given them more custom, 
and as many promises as any young man in the 
city. They were inflexible, and the signal of 
danger being given, a host of other prosecutors 
pounced upon his back. Straddle saw there was 
but one way for it ; he determined to do the 
thing genteelly, to go to smash like a hero, and 
dashed into the limits in high style, being the 
fifteenth gentleman I have known to drive tan- 
dem to the — ne plus ultra — the d 1. 

Unfortunate Straddle ! May thy fate be a 
warning to all young gentlemen who come out 
from Birmingham to astonish the natives ! I 
should never have taken the trouble to delineate 
his character had he not been a genuine cockney, 
and worthy to be the representative of his nu- 
merous tribe. Perhaps my simple countrymen 
may hereafter be able to distinguish between the 
real English gentleman, and individuals of the cast 



264 SALMAGUNDI. 

I have heretofore spoken of, as mere mongrels, 
springing at one bound from contemptible ob- 
scurity at home to dayh'ght and splendor in this 
good-natured land. The true-born and true-bred 
English gentleman is a character I hold in great 
respect ; and I love to look back to the period 
when our forefathers flourished in the same gen- 
erous soil, and hailed each other as brothers. 
But the cockney! — when 1 contemplate him as 
springing, too, from the same source, I feel 
ashamed of the relationship, and am tempted to 
deny my origin. In the character of Straddle is 
traced the complete outline of a true cockney, of 
EngHsh growth, and a descendant of that indi- 
vidual facetious character mentioned by Shake- 
speare, " who, in pure kindness to his horse, hut' 
tered his hay" ^ 

1 An amusing verification of the fidelity of the character 
of Tom Straddle, to the type of the Brummagem tourist, is 
afforded in an anecdote related in a Memoir of Irving, pre- 
fixed to the Paris edition of his works. " Some j'ears ago," 
it reads, " a man who was prosecuted in Jamaica, for a libel- 
ous publication, produced a volume of Salmagundi on his 
trial. This publication, it appeared, had been copied literally, 
word for Avord, from the character of Tom Straddle, printed, 
sold, sent abroad, mischievously enough, to be sure, while 
one of those English travellers, whom Irving had so delight- 
fully hit off, was in Jamaica, exploring and astonishing the 
natives." 



A TOUR IN BROADWAY. 265 



THE STRANGER AT HOME ; OR, A TOUR IN BROAD- 
WAY. 

BY JEREMY COCKLOFT, THE YOUNGER. 

PREFACE. 

YOUR learned traveller begins his travels at 
the commencement of his journey ; others 
begin theirs at the end ; and a third class begin 
anyhow and anywhere, which I think is the true 
way. A hite facetious writer begins what ho 
calls a " Picture of New York," with a partic- 
ular description of Glen's Falls, from whence, 
with admirable dexterity, he makes a digression 
to the celebrated Mill Rock on Long Island ! 
Now, this is what I like ; and I intend, in my 
present tour, to digress as often and as long as I 
please. If, therefore, I choose to make a hop, 
skip, and jump to China, or New Holland, or 
Terra Incognita, or Communipaw, I can produce 
a host of examples to justify me, even in books 
that have been praised by the English reviewers, 
whose jiat being all that is necessary to give 
books a currency in this country, I am deter- 
mined, as soon as I finish my edition of travels 
in seventy-five volumes, to transmit it forthwith 
to them for judgment. If these Transatlantic 
censors praise it, I have no fear of its success in 
this country, where their approbation gives, like 
the Tower stamp, a fictitious value, and makes 
tinsel and wampum pass current for classic gold. 



206 SALMAGUNDI. 



CHAPTER I. 

Battery — flag-staff kept by Louis Keaffee 
— Keaffee maintains two spy-glasses by subscrip- 
tions — merchants pay two shillings a year to 
look through them at the signal poles on Staten 
Island — a very pleasant prospect ; but not so 
pleasant as that from the hill of Howth — query, 
ever been there? Young seniors go down to 
the flag-staff to buy pea-nuts and beer, after the 
fatigue of their morning studies, and sometimes 
to play at ball, or some other innocent amuse- 
ment — digression to the Olympic and Isthmian 
games, with a description of the Isthmus of 
Corinth, and that of Darien : to conclude with a 
dissertation on the Indian custom of offering a 
whiff of tobacco smoke to their great spirit 
Areskou. — Return to the Battery — delightful 
place to indulge in the luxury of sentiment. 
How various are the mutations of this world ! 
but a few days, a few hours, — at least not aboTe 
two hundred years ago, and this spot was in- 
habited by a race of aboi'igines, who dwelt in 
bark huts, lived upon oysters and Indian corn, 
danced buffalo dances, and were lords " of the 
fowl and the brute ; " but the spirit of time, and 
the spirit of brandy have swept them from their 
ancient inheritance ; and as the white wave of 
the ocean, by its ever toiling assiduity, gains on 
the brown land, so the white man, by slow and 
sure degrees, has gained on the brown savage, 
and dispossessed him of the land of his fore- 
fathers. — Conjectures on the first peopling of 



FIRST PEOPLING OF AMERICA. 267 

America — different opinions on that subject, to 
the amount of near one hundred — opinion of 
Augustine Torniel — that they are the descend- 
ants of Shem and Japheth, who came by the 
way of Japan to America. — Jutfridius Petre 
says they came from Friezhmd. — mem. cold 
journey — Mons. Charron says they are de- 
scended from the Gauls — ^bitter enough — A. 
Milius from the Celtae — Kircher from the 
P^gyptians — L'Compte from the Phoenicians — • 
Lescarbort from the Canaanites, alias the An- 
thropophagi — Brerewood from Tartars — Gro- 
ti us from the Norwegians — and Linkum Fide- 
lius has written two folio vohimes to prove that 
America was first of all peopled either by the 
antipodeans or the Cornish miners, who, he 
maintains, might easily have made a subterranean 
passage to this country, particularly the antipo- 
deans, who, he asserts, can get along under 
ground as fast as moles — query, which of these 
is in the right, or are they all wrong ? For my 
part, I don't see why America had not as good a 
right to be peopled at first, as any little contemp- 
tible country in Europe, or Asia ; and I am de- 
termined to write a book at my first leisure, to 
prove that Noah was born here — and that so far 
is America from being indebted to any other 
country for inhabitants, that they were every one 
of them peopled by colonies from her ! — mem. 
Battery a very pleasant place to walk on a Sun- 
day evening — not quite genteel though — every 
body walks there, and a pleasure, however gen- 
uine, is spoiled by general participation — the 



268 SALMAGUNDI. 

fashionable ladies of Nevv York turn up their 
noses if you ask them to walk on the Battery on 
Sunday — query, have they scruples of con- 
science, or scruples of delicacy ? Neither — they 
have only scruples of gentility, which are quite 
different things. 

CHAPTER II. 

Custom-house ^ — origin of duties on mer- 
chandise — this place much frequented by mer- 
chants — and why ? — different classes of mer- 
chants — importers — a kind of nobility — whole- 
sale merchants — have the privilege of going to 
the city assembly ! — Retail traders cannot go to 
ilie assembly. — Some curious speculations on the 
vast distinction betwixt selling tape by the piece 
or by the yard. — Wholesale merchants look down 
upon the retailers, who in return look down upon 
the green-grocers, who look down upon the mar- 
ket-women, who don't care a straw about any of 
them. — Origin of the distinctions of rank — Dr. 
Johnson once horribly puzzled to settle the point 
of precedence between a louse and a flea — good 
hint enough to humble purse-proud arrogance. — 
Custom-house partly used as a lodging-house for 
the pictures belonging to the Academy of Arts 
— couldn't afford the statues house-room, most of 
them in the cellar of the City Hall — poor place 
for the gods and goddesses — after Olympus. — 
Pensive reflections on the ups and downs of life 

1 The old Government-house facing Bowling-Green, built 
for the President of the United States, afterwards the resi- 
dence of George Clinton and John Jay. 



BROADWAY. 269 

— Apollo, and the rest of the set, used to cut a 
great figure in days of yore. — Mem. every dog 
has his day — sorry for Venus though, poor 
wench, to be cooped up in a celhir with not a sin- 
gle grace to wait on her ! — Eulogy on the gen- 
tlemen of the Academy of Arts, for the great 
spirit with which they began the undertaking, 
and the perseverance with which they have pur- 
sued it — it is a pity, however, they began at the 
wrong end — maxim — If you want a bird and a 
cage, always buy the cage first — hem! — a word 
to the wise ! 

CHAPTER III. 

Bowling Green — fine place for pasturing 
cows — a perquisite of the late corporation — for- 
merly ornamented with a statue of George the 
Third — people pulled it down in the war to 
make bullets — great pity ; it might have been 
given to the Academy — it would have become a 
cellar as well as any other. — Broadway — great 
difference in the gentility of streets — a man who 
resides in Pearl street, or Chatham Row, derives 
no kind of dignity from his domicil ; but place 
him in a certain part of Broadway, anywhere 
between the Battery and Wall street, and he 
straightway becomes entitled to figure in the 
beau monde, and strut as a person of prodigious 
consequence ! — Query, whether there is a degree 
of purity in the air of that quarter which changes 
the gross particles of vulgarity into gems of re- 
finement and polish ? A question to be asked, 
but not to be answered — New brick church ! — 



270 SALMAGUNDI. , 

What a pity it is the corporation of Trinity 
church are so poor ! — if they could not afford to 
build a better place of worship, why did they not 
go about with a subscription ? — even I would 
have given them a few shillings ratlier than our 
city should have been disgraced by such a pitiful 
specimen of economy — Wall street — City Hall, 
famous place for catch-poles, deputy sheriffs, and 
young lawyers ; which last attend the courts, not 
because they have business there, but because 
they liave no business anywhere else. My blood 
always curdles when I see a catch-pole, they be- 
ing a species of vermin who feed and fatten on 
the common wretchedness of mankind, who trade 
in misery, and in becoming the executioners of 
the law, by their oppression and villainy, almost 
counterbalance all tlie benefits which are derived 
from its salutary regulations — Story of Quevedo 
about a catch-pole possessed by a devil, who, on 
being interrogated, declared that he did not come 
there voluntarily, but by compulsion ; and that a 
decent devil would never, of his own free will, 
enter into the body of a catch-pole ; instead, 
therefore, of doing him the injustice to say that 
here was a catch-pole bedeviled, they should say, 
it was a devil be-catch-poled ; that being in real- 
ity the truth — Wonder what has become of the 
old crier of the court, who used to make more 
noise in preserving silence than the audience did 
in breaking it — if a man happened to drop his 
cane, the old hero would sing out " silence ! " in a 
voice that emulated the " wide mouthed thunder " 
— On inquiring, found he had retired from basi- 



BARBERS. 271 

ness to enjoy otium cum dignitate^ as many a 
great man has done before. Strange that wise 
men, as they are thought, should toil through a 
whole existence merely to enjoy a few moments 
of leisure at last ! why don't they begin to be 
easy at first, and not purchase a moment's pleas- 
ure with an age of pain ? — mem. posed some of 
the jockeys — eh ! 

CHAPTER IV. 

Barber's pole ; three different orders of shav- 
ers in New York — those who shave pigs ; N. B. 

— freshmen and sophomores, — those who cut 
beards, and those who shave notes of hand ; the 
last are the most respectable, because, in the 
course of a year, they make more money, and 
that honestly, than the whole corps of other shav- 
ers can do in half a century ; besides, it would 
puzzle a common barber to ruin any man, except 
by cutting his throat ; whereas your higher order 
o^ shavers, your true blood-suckers of the commu- 
nity, seated snugly behind the curtain, in watch 
for prey, live on the vitals of the unfortunate, and 
grow rich on the ruin of thousands. Yet this 
last class of barbers are held in high respect in 
the world ; they never offend against the decen- 
cies of life, go often to church, look down on hon- 
est poverty walking on foot, and call themselves 
gentlemen ; yea, men of honor ! — Lottery offices 

— another set of capital shavers ! — licensed 
gambling houses ! good things enough, as they 
enable a few holiest industrious gentlemen to hum- 
bug the people — accoi"ding to law ; besides, if 



272 SALMAGVNDL 

the people will be such fools, whose fault is it but 
their own if they get S/^ ? — Messrs. PafF — beg 
pardon for patting them in such bad company, 
because they are a couple of fine fellows — mem. 
to recommend Michael's antique snuff-box to all 
amateurs in the art. — Eagle singing Yankee- 
doodle — N. B. — BufFon, Pennant and the rest 
of the naturalists, all naturals not to know the 
ea<£le was a sinafino- bird ; Linkum Fidelius knew 
better, and gives a long description of a bald 
eagle that serenaded him once in Canada ; — di- 
gression ; particular account of the Canadian In- 
dians ; — story about Areskou learning to make 
fishing nets of a spider — don't believe it, though, 
because, according to Linkum, and many other 
learned authorities, Areskou is the same as 3Iars, 
being derived from his Greek name of Ares ; and 
if so, he knew well enough what a net was with- 
out consulting a spider ; — story of Arachne be- 
ing changed into a spider as a reward for having 
hanged herself; — derivation of the word spinster 
from spider ; — Colophon, now Altobosco, the 
bitthplace of Arachne, remarkable for a famous 
breed of spiders to this day ; — mem. nothing 
like a little scholarship — make the ignoramus^ 
viz. the majority of my readers, stare like wild 
pigeons; — return to New York a short cut — 
meet a dashing belle, in a little thick white veil — 
tried to get a peep at her face — saw she squinted 
a little — thought so at first ; — never saw a face 
covered with a veil that was worth looking at; — 
saw some ladies holding a conversation across the 
street about going to church next Sunday — 



DRY-GOODS STORES. 273 

talked so loud they frightened a cartmaii's horse, 
who ran away, and overset a basket of ginger- 
bread with a little boy under it ; — mem. I don't 
much see the use of speaking-trumpets now-a- 
days. 

CHAPTER V. 

Bought a pair of gloves ; dry-goods stores the 
genuine schools of politeness — true Parisian 
manners there — got a pair of gloves and a pista- 
reen's worth of bows for a dollar — dog cheap ! — 
Courtlandt street corner — famous place to see the 
belles go by — query, ever been shopping with a 
lady? — 5>ome account of it — ladies go into all 
the shops in the city to buy a pair of gloves — 
good way of spending time, if they have nothing 
else to do. — Oswego market — looks very much 
like a triumphal arch — some account of the man- 
ner of erecting them in ancient times ; digression 
to the «rc/z-duke Charles, and some account of the 
ancient Germans. N. B. — quote Tacitus on this 
subject. — Particular description of market- bas- 
kets, butcher's blocks, and wheelbarrows ; — mem, 
queer things run upon one wheel ! — Saw a cart- 
man driving full tilt through Broadway — run 
over a child — good enough for it — what busi- 
ness had it to be in the way ? — Hint concerning 
the laws against pigs, goats, dogs, and cartmen, — 
grand apostrophe to the sublime science of juris- 
prudence ; — comparison between legislators and 
tinkers ; query, whether it requires greater ability 
to mend a law than to mend a kettle ? — inquiry 
into the utility of makino; laws that are broken a 
hundred times a day with impunity; — my Lord 
18 



274 SALMAGUNDI. 

Coke's opinion on the subject ; my Lord a very 
great man — so was Lord Bacon : a good story 
about a criminal named Hog claiming relationship 
with him. — Hogg's porter-house ; — a great 
haunt of Will Wizard ; Will put down there one 
night by a sea-captain, in an argument concern- 
ing the era of the Chinese empire Whangpo ; — 
Hogg's a capital place for hearing the same sto- 
ries, the same jokes, and the same songs every 
night in the year — mem. except Sunday nights; 
fine school for young politicians too — some of the 
longest and thickest heads in the city come there 
to settle the nation. — Scheme of Ichahod Fungus 
to restore the balance of Europe ; — digression ; — 
some account of the balance of Europe ; comparison 
between it and a pair of scales, with the Emperor 
Alexander in one and the Emperor Napoleon in 
the other : fine fellows — both of a weight, can't 
tell which will kick the beam : — mem. don't care 
much either — nothing to me: — Ichahod very 
unhappy about it — thinks Napoleon has an eye 
on this country — capital place to pasture his 
horses, and provide for the rest of his family. — Dey 
street — ancient Dutch name of it, signifying mur- 
derers' valley, formerly the site of a great peach 
orchard ; my grandmother's history of the famous 
Peach war — arose from an Indian stealing peaches 
out of this orchard ; good cause as need be for a 
war ; just as good as the balance of power. An- 
ecdote of war between two Italian states about a 
bucket ; introduce some capital new truisms about 
the folly of mankind, the ambition of kings, 
potentates, and princes ; particularly Alexander, 



ODDS AND ENDS. 275 

Caesar, Charles the XII th, Napoleon, little King 
Pepin, and the great Charlemagne. — Conclude 
with an exhortation to the present race of sove- 
leigns to keep the king's peace, and abstain from 
all those deadly quarrels which produce battle, 
muider, and sudden death — mem. — ran my 
nose against a lamp-post — conclude in great dud- 
geon. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

OUR cousin Pindar, after having been con- 
fined for some time past with a fit of the 
gout, which is a kind of keepsake in our family, 
has again set his mill going, as my readers will 
perceive. On reading his piece I could not help 
smiling at the high compliments which, contrary 
to his usual style, he has lavished on the dear sex. 
The old gentleman, unfortunately observing my 
merriment, stumped out of the room with great 
vociferation of crutch, and has not exchanged 
three words with me since. I expect every hour 
to hear that he has packed up his movables, and, 
as usual in all cases of disgust, retreated to his 
old country-house. 

Pindar, like most of the old Cockloft heroes, is 
wonderfully susceptible to the genial influence of 
warm weather. In winter he is one of the most 
crusty old bachelors under heaven, and is wick- 
edly addicted to sarcastic reflections of every kind, 
particularly on the little enchanting foibles and 



276 SALMAGUNDI. 

whimwhams of women. But when the spring 
comes on, and the mild influence of the sun re- 
leases nature from her icy fetteis, the ice of his 
bosom dissolves into a gentle current which re- 
flects the bewitching qualities of the fair ; as in 
some mild, clear evening, when nature reposes in 
silence, the stream bears in its pure bosom all the 
starry magnificence of heaven. It is under the 
control of this influence he has written his piece; 
and I beg the ladies, in the plenitude of their 
harmless conceit, not to flatter themselves that be- 
cause <he good Pindar has suffered them to escape 
his censures he had nothing more to censure. It 
is but sunshine and zephyrs which have wrought 
this wonderful change ; and I am much mistaken 
if the flrst northeaster don't convert all his good 
nature into most exquisite spleen. 



FROM THE MILL OF PINDAR COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

HOW often I cast my reflections behind, 
And call up the days of past youth to my 

mind. 
When folly assails in habiliments new. 
When fashion obtrudes some fresh whimwham to 

view ; 
When the foplings of fashion bedazzle my sight, 
Bewilder my feelings — my senses benight ; 
I retreat in disgust from the world of to-day. 
To commune with the world that has mouldered 

away ; 



RETROSPECT. 277 

To converse with the shades of those friends of 

my love, 
Long gather'd in peace to the angels above. 

In my rambles through life should I meet with 

annoy, 
From the bold, beardless stripling — the turbid, 

pert boy — 
One reared in the mode lately reckon'd genteel, 
Which, neglecting the head, aims to perfect the 

heel ; 
Which completes the sweet fopling while yet in 

his teens, 
And fits him for fashion's light changeable scenes ; 
Proclaims him a man to the near and the far, 
Can he dance a cotillon or smoke a cigar ; 
And though brain'ess and vapid as vapid can be. 
To routs and to parties pronounces him free : — 
O, I think on the beaux that existed of yore. 
On those rules of the ton that exist now no more ! 

I recall with delight *how each yonker at first 
In the cradle of science and virtue was nursed : 
— How the graces of person and graces of mind. 
The polish of learning and fashion combined. 
Till softened in manners and strengthened in head, 
By the classical lore of the living and dead, 
Matured in his person till manly in size, 
He then was presented a beau to our eyes ! 

My nieces of late have made frequent complaint 
That they sufi^er vexation and painful constraint. 
By haviiig their circles too often distrest 
By some three or four goslings just fledged from 

the nest, 
Who, propp'd by the credit their fathers sustain, 



278 SALMAGUNDI. 

Alike tender in years and in person and brain, 
But plenteously stock'd with that substitute, brass, 
For true wits and critics would anxiously pass. 
They complain of that empty sarcastical slang, 
So common to all the coxcombical gang, 
Who the fair with their shallow experience vex. 
By thrumming forever their weakness of sex ; 
And who boast of themselves, when they talk 

with proud air 
Of Man's mental ascendency over the fair. 

'Twas thus the young owlet produced in the 

nest, 
Where the eagle of Jove her young eaglets had 

prest, 
Pretended to boast of his royal descent, 
And vaunted that force which to eagles is lent. 
Though fated to shun with his dim visual ray, 
The cheering delights and the brilliance of day ; 
To forsake the fair regions of ether and light. 
For dull moping caverns of darkness and night: 
Still talk'd of that eagle-like strength of the eye. 
Which approaches unwinking the pride of the 

sky, 
Of that wing which unwearied can hover and 

play ^ 
In the noon-tide effulirpnce and torrent of day. 

Dear girls, the sad evils of which ye complain 
Your sex must endure from the feeble and vain, 
'Tis the commonplace jest of the nursery scape- 
goat, 
'Tis the commonplace ballad that croaks from his 

throat ; 
He hr^ws not that nature — that polish decrees, 



COMPLIMENTARY. 279 

That women should always endeavor to please : 
That the law of their system has early imprest 
The importance of fitting themselves to each 

guest ; 
And, of course, that full oft when ye trifle and 

play, 
'Tis to gratify trifiers who strut in your way. 
The child might as well of its mother complain, 
As wanting true wisdom and soundness of brain ; 
Because that, at times, while it hangs on her 

breast, 
She with a " lullaby-baby *' beguiles it to rest. 
*Tis its weakness of mind that induces the strain, 
For wisdom to infants is prattled in vain. 

'Tis true at odd times, when in frolicsome fit. 
In the midst of his gambols, the mischievous wit 
May start some light foible that clings to the fair 
Like cobwebs that fasten to objects most rare, — 
In the play of his fancy will sportively say 
Some delicate censure that pops in his way. 
He may smile at your fashions, and frankly ex- 
press 
His dislike of a dance or a flaming red dress ; 
Yet he blames not your want of man's physical 

force, 
Nor complains though ye caimot in Latin dis- 
course. 
He delights in the language of nature ye speak, 
Though not so refined as true classic Greek. 
He remembers that Providence never design'd 
Our females like suns to bewilder and blind ; 
But like the mild orb of pale ev'ning serene, 
Whose radiatice illumines, yet softens the scene, 



280 SALMAGUNDI. 

To light us with cheering and welcoming ray, 
Along the rude path when the sun is away. 

I own in my scribblings I lately have nam'd 
Some faults of our fair which I gently have 

blam'd, 
But be it forever by all understood, 
My censures were only pronounc'd for their good. 
I delight in the sex ; 'tis the pride of my mind. 
To consider them gentle, endearing, refin'd ; 
As our solace below, in the journey of life, 
To smooth its rough p^isses — to soften its strife : 
As objects intended our joys to supply, 
And to lead us in love to the temples on high. 
How oft have I felt, when two lucid blue eyes, 
As calm and as bright as the gems of the skies. 
Have beara'd their soft radiance into my soul, 
Impress'd with an awe like an angel's control ! 
Yes, fair ones, by this is forever defin'd 
The fop from the man of refinement and mind ; 
The latter believes ye in bounty were given 
As a bond upon earth of our union with heaven ; 
And if ye are weak and are frail, in his view 
'Tis to call forth fresh warmth and his fondness 

renew. 
'Tis his joy to support these defects of your frame. 
And his love at your weakness redoubles its 

flame ; 
He rejoices the gem is so rich and so fair. 
And is proud that it claims his protection and 

care. 




NO. XIII. — FRIDAY, AUGUST 14, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR, 

WAS not a little perplexed, a short 
time since, by the eccentric conduct of 
my knowing coadjutor, Will Wizard. 
For two or three days he was completely in a 
quandary. He would come into old Cockloft's 
parlor ten times a day, swinging his ponderous 
legs along, with his usual vast strides, clap his 
hands into his sides, contemplate the little shep- 
herdesses on the mantel-piece for a few minutes, 
whistling all the while, and then sally out full 
sweep, without uttering a word. To be sure, a 
pish or a pshaw occasionally escaped him ; and he 
was observed once to pull out his enormous to- 
bacco-box, drum for a moment upon its lid with 
his knuckles, and then return it into his pocket 
without taking a quid. 'Twas evident Will was 
full of some mighty idea : not that his restless- 
ness was any way uncommon ; for I have often 
seen Will throw himself almost in a fever of 
heat and fatigue — doing nothing. But this in- 
flexible taciturnity set the whole family, as usual, 
a wondering: as Will seldom enters the house 
without giving one of his "one thousand and 
one " stories. For my part, I began to think 



282 SALMAGUNDI. 

that the late fracas at Canton had alarmed Will 
for the safety of his friends, Kinglun, Chinqua, 
and Consequa ; or that something had gone wrong 
in the alterations of the theatre ; or that some 
new outrage at Norfolk had put him in a worry ; 
in short, I did not know what to think ; for Will 
is such a universal busybody, and meddles so 
much in everything going forward, that you 
might as well attempt to conjecture what is going 
on in the North Star as in his precious pericra- 
nium. Even Mrs. Cockloft, who, like a worthy 
woman as she is, seldom troubles herself about 
anything in this world — saving the affairs of her 
household, and the correct deportment of her fe- 
male friends — was struck with the mystery of 
Will's behavior. She happened, when he came 
in and went out the tenth time, to be busy darn- 
ing the bottom of one of the old red damask 
chairs ; and notwithstanding this is to her an 
affair of vast importance, yet she could not help 
turning round and exclaiming — 

" I wonder what can be the matter with Mr. 
Wizard ? " 

" Nothing," replied old Christopher, " only we 
shall have an eruption soon." 

The old lady did not understand a word of 
this, neither did she care ; she had expressed her 
wonder; and that, with her, is always sufficient. 

I am so well acquainted with Will's peculiari- 
ties that 1 can tell, even by his wiiistle, when he 
IS about an essay for our paper, as certainly as 
a weather wiseacre knows that it is going to rain 
when he sees a pig nui squeaking about with his 



A MANUSCRIPT. 283 

nose in the wind. I, therefore, laid my account 
with receiving a communication from him before 
long ; and sure enough, the evening before last I 
distinguished his freemason knocli at my door. 
I have seen many wise men in my time, philoso- 
phers, mathematicians, astronomers, politicians, 
editors, and almanac-makers ; but never did I see 
a man look half so wise as did my friend Wizard 
on enteriiis; the room. Had Lavater beheld him 
at that moment, he would have set him down, to 
a certainty, as a fellow who had just discovered 
the longitude or the philosopher's stone. 

Without saying a word, he handed me a roll 
of paper ; after which he lighted his cigar, sat 
down, crossed his legs, folded his arms, and, ele- 
vating his nose to an angle of about forty-five 
degrees, began to smoke like a steam-engine — 
Will delights in the picturesque. On opening 
his budget, and perceiving^ the motto, it struck me 
that Will had brought me one of his confounded 
Chinese manuscripts, and I was forthwith going 
to dismiss it with indignation ; but accidentally 
seeing the name of our oracle, the sage Linkum, 
of whose inestimable folios we pride ourselves 
upon being the >'-oIe possessors, I began to think 
the better of it, and looked round to Will to ex- 
press approbation, I shall never forget the figure 
he cut at that moment ! He had watched my 
countenance, on opening his manuscript, with the 
argus eyes of an author : and, perceiving some 
tokens of disapprobation, began, according to cus- 
tom, to puff away at his cigar with such vigor 
that in a few minutes he had entirely involved 



284 SALMAGUNDI. 

himself in smoke, except his nose and one foot, 
which were just visible, the latter wagging with 
great velocity. I believe I have hinted before — 
at least I ought to have done so — that Will's 
nose is a very goodly nose ; to which it may be 
as well to add that, in his voyages under the 
tropics, it has acquited a copper complexion, 
which renders it very brilliant and luminous. 
You may imagine what a sumptuous appearance 
it made, projecting boldly, like the celebrated 
promontorium Jiasidium at Sanios, with a light- 
house upon it, and surrounded on all sides with 
smoke and vapor. Had my gravity been, like 
the Chinese philosopher's, " within one degree of 
absolute frigidity," here would have been a trial 
for it. 1 could not stand it, but burst into such 
a laugh as I do not indulge in above once in a 
hundred years. This was too much for Will ; 
he emerged from his cloud, threw his cigar into 
the fire-place, and strode out of the room, puUin-g 
up his breeches, muttering something which, 1 
verily believe, was nothing more than a horrible 
long Chinese malediction. 

He, however, left his manuscript behind him, 
which I now give to the world. Whether he is 
serious on the occasion, or only bantering, no one, 
I believe, can tell ; for, whether in speaking or 
writhig, there is such an invincible gravity in his 
demeanor and style, that even I, who have studied 
him as closely as an antiquarian studies an old 
manuscript or inscription, am frequently at a loss 
to know what the rogue would be at. I have 
seen him indulijre in his favorite amusement of 



HARBOR DEFENSES. 285 

quizzing for hours together, witliout any one hav- 
ing the least suspicion of the matter, until he 
would suddenly twist his phiz into an expression 
that baffles all description, thrust his tongue in 
his cheeix, and blow up in a laugh almost as loud 
as the shout of the Romans on a certain occasion, 
which honest Plutarch avers frightened several 
crows to such a degi'ee that they fell down stone 
dead into the Campus Martins. Jeremy Cock- 
loft the younger, who, like a true modern philos- 
opher, delights in experiments that are of no kind 
of use, took the trouble to measure one of Will's 
risible explosions, and declared to me that, ac- 
cording to accurate measurement, it contained 
thirty feet square of solid laughter. What will 
the processors say to this ? 



PLANS FOR DEFENDING OUR HARBOR. 

BY WILLIAM WIZAKU, ESQ. 

Long-fong teko buzz tor-pe-do, 

Fudge Conf'udui. 

We'll blow the villains all sky-high; 

But do it with econo my. Link. Fid. 

SURELY never was a town more subject to 
midsummer fancies and dog-day whimwhams 
than this most excellent of cities ; our notions, 
like our diseases, seem all epidemic ; and no 
sooner does a new disorder or a new freak seize 
one individual but it is sure to run through all 



286 SALMAGUNDI. 

the community. This is particularly the case 
when the summer is at the hottest, and every- 
body's head is in a vertigo and his brain in a 
ferment ; 'tis absolutely necessary, then, the poor 
souls should hav9 some bubble to amuse them- 
selves with, or they would certainly run mad. 
Last year the poplar worm made its appearance 
most fortunately for our citizens; and everybody 
was so much in horror of being poisoned, and de- 
voured, and so busied in making humane experi- 
ments on cats and dogs, that we got through the 
summer quite comfortably; the cats had the worst 
of it ; every mouser of them was shaved, and 
there was not a whisker to be seen in the whole 
sisterhood. This summer everybody has had full 
employment in plaiming fortifications for our 
harbor. Not a cobbler or tailor in the city but 
has left his awl and his thimble, become an en- 
gineer outright, and aspired most magnanimously 
to the building of forts and the destruction of 
navies ! Heavens ! as my friend Mustapha would 
say, on what a great scale is everything in this 
country ! 

Among the various plans that have been of- 
fered, the most conspicuous is one devised and 
exhibited, as I am informed, by that notable con- 
federacy, •' The North River Society.'* 

Anxious to redeem their reputation from the 
foul suspicions that have for a long time over- 
clouded it, these aquatic incendiaries have come 
forward, at the present alarming juncture, and 
announced a most potent discovery which is to 
guarantee our port from the visits of any foreign 



INFERNAL MACHINES. 287 

inarauders. The Society have, it seems, invented 
a cunning machine, shrewdly yclept a Torpedo} 
by which the stoutest line of battle ship, even a 
Santissima Trmidada^ may be caught napping and 
decompcsed in a twinkling ; a kind of submarine 
powder-magazine to swim under water, like an 
aquatic mole, or water-rat, and destroy the enemy 
in the moments of unsuspicious security. 

This straw tickled the noses of all our dignita- 
ries wonderfully ; for to do our government jus- 
tice, it has no objection to injuring and extermi- 
nating its enemies in any manner — provided the 
thing can be done economically. 

It was determined the experiment should be 
tried, and an old brig was purchased for not more 
than twice its value, and delivered over into the 
hands of its tormentors, the North River Society, 
to be tortured, and battered, and annihilated, se- 

1 The allusion is here evidently to the experiment made by 
Fulton in New York Harbor, on the 20th of Jul}', 1807, 
Bhortly after his return from Europe, briiig:ing with him the 
favorite plans of " torpedo warfare," as he called it, which he 
had laid before the governments of France and England. An 
old brig was, after some delay, blown up in the bay by one 
of Fulton's charged canisters. The affair, with Fulton's ap- 
peal to the Government, his previous lecture on Governor's 
Island to the magistracy of the city, when the audience was 
somewhat diminished on the production of one of the loaded 
torpedoes, with his declaration that it contained a hundred 
and seventy pounds of powder, and that, if he were to suffer 
the clock-work to run fifteen minutes, he had no doubt it 
would blow the fortification to atoms — all this, with his let- 
ter to the Corporation the day after his successful experiment, 
was well calculated to produce the stir in the city so pleasantly 
set forth in this paper of SAUVJAGUiir»i, 



288 SALMAGUNDI. 

cundum artem. A day was appointed for the 
occasion, when all the good citizens of the won- 
der-loving city of Gotham were invited to the 
blowing-up ; like the fat innkeeper in Rabelais, 
who requested all his customers to come on a 
certain day and see him burst. 

As I have almost as great a veneration as the 
good Mr. Walter Shandy for all kinds of experi- 
ments that are ingeniously ridiculous, I made 
very particular mention of the one in question at 
the table of my friend Christopher Cockloft ; but 
it put the honest old gentleman in a violent pas- 
sion. He condemned it in toto as attempt to in- 
troduce a dastardly and exterminating mode of 
warfare. " Already have we proceeded far 
enough," said he, " in the science of destruction ; 
war is already invested with sufficient horrors 
and calamities. Let us not increase the cata- 
logue ; let us not, by these deadly artifices, pro- 
voke a system of insidious and indiscriminate 
hostility, that shall terminate in laying our cities 
desolate, and exposing our women, our children, 
and our infirm, to the sword of pitiless recrimi- 
nation." Honest old cavalier ! — it was evident 
he did not reason as a true politician — but he 
felt as a Christian and philanthropist ; and that 
was perhaps just as weU. 

It may be readily supposed, that our citizens 
did not refuse the invitation of the Society to 
the blow-up ; it was the first naval action ever 
exhibited in our port, and the good people all 
crowded to see the British navy blown up in 
efRgy. The young ladies were delighted with 



DISAPP INTM EN TS. 289 

the novelty of the show, and dedared that if 
war could be conducted in this manner, it would 
become a fashionable amusement ; and the de- 
struction of a fleet be as pleasant as a ball or a 
tea-party. The old folk were equally pleased 
with the spectacle — ; because it cost them noth- 
ing. Dear souls, how hard was it they should 
be disappointed! the brig most obstinately re- 
fused to be decomposed ; the dinners were cold, 
and the puddings were overboiled, throughout the 
renowned city of Gotham ; and its sapient in- 
habitants, like the honest Strasburghers, from 
whom most of them are doubtless descended, 
who went out to see the courteous stranger and 
his nose, all returned home after having threat- 
ened to pull down the flag-staff by way of tak- 
ing satisfaction for their disappointment. By 
the way, there is not an animal in the world 
more discriminating in its vengeance than a free- 
born mob. 

In the evening I repaired to friend Hogg's, to 
smoke a sociable cigar, but had scarcely entered 
the room when I was taken prisoner by my 
friend, Mr. Ichabod Fungus ; wdio I soon saw 
was at his usual trade of prying into mill-stones. 
The old gentleman informed me that the bris: 
had actually blown up, after a world of man- 
euvering, and had nearly blown up the So- 
ciety with it ; he seemed to entertain strong 
doubts as to the objects of the Society in the 
invention of these inlernal machines — iunted a 
suspicion of their wishing to set the river on fire, 
and that he should not be surprised, on waking 
19 



290 SALMAGUNDI. 

one of these mornings, to find tlie Hudson in a 
blaze. 

" Not that I disapprove of the plan," said he, 
" provided it has the end in view wliich they 
profess ; no, no, an excellent plan of defense ; no 
need of batteries, forts, frigates, and gun-boats; 
observe, sir, all that's necessary is that the ships 
must come to anchor in a convenient place 
watch must be asleep, or so complacent as not to 
disturb any boats paddling about them — fair 
wind and tide — no moonlight — machines well- 
directed — mustn't flash in the pan — bang's the 
word, and the vessel's blown up in a moment ! " 

" Good," said I, " you remind me of a lubberly 
Chinese who was flogged by an honest cap- 
tain of my acquaintance, and who, on being ad- 
vised to retaliate, exclaimed : ' Hi yah ! s'pose 
two men hold fast him captain, den very mush 
rae bamboo he ! ' " 

The old gentleman grew a little crusty, and 
insisted that I did not understand him ; all that 
was requisite to render the effect certain was, 
that the enemy should enter into the project : or, 
in other words, be agreeable to the measure ; so 
that if the machine did not come to the ship, the 
ship should go to the machine ; by which means 
he thought the success of the machine would be 
inevitable — provided it struck fire. 

" But do not you think," said I, doubtingly, 
"that it would be rather difficult to persuade 
the enemy into such an agreement ? Some peo- 
ple have an invincible antipathy to being blown 
up." 



SHREWD DEVICES. 291 

"Not at all, not at all," replied he, trium- 
phantly; "got an excellent notion for that; do 
with them as we have done with the brig — buy 
all the vessels we mean to destroy, and blow 'em 
up as best suits our convenience. I have thought 
deeply on that subject, and have calculated to a 
certainty that if our funds hold out we may, in 
this way, destroy the whole British navy — by 
contract." 

By this time all the quidnuncs of tlie room 
had gathered around us, each pregnant with some 
mighty scheme for the salvation of his country. 
One pathetically lamented that we had no such 
men among us as the famous Toujoursdort and 
Grossitout ; who, when the celebrated Captain 
Trenchement made war against the city of Kala- 
cahabalaba, utterly discomfited the great king, 
BigstafF, and blew up his whole army by sneez- 
ing. Another imparted a sage idea, which 
seems to have occupied more heads than one ; 
that is, that the best way of fortifying the har- 
bor was to ruin it at once — choke the channel 
with rocks and blocks; strew it with chevauxde- 
frise and torpedoes, and make it like a imrsery- 
garden, full of men-traps and spring-guns. No 
vessel would then have the temerity to enter our 
harbor ; we should not even dare to navigate it 
ourselves. Or, if no cheaper way could be de- 
vised, let Governor's Island be raised by levers 
and pulleys — floated with empty casks, etc., 
towed down to the Narrows, and di'opped plump 
in the very mouth of the harbor ! 

"" But," said I, " would not the prosecution of 



292 SALMAGUNDI. 

these whim whams be rather expensive and dila- 
tory?" 

" Pshaw ! " cried the other, " what's a million 
of money to an experiment ? The true spirit of 
our economy requires that we should spare no 
expense in discovering tlie cheapest mode of de- 
fending ourselves ; and then if all these modes 
should fail, why, you know the worst we have to 
do is to return to the old-fashioned humdrum 
mode of forts and batteries." 

" By which time," cried 1, " the arrival of the 
enemy may have rendered their erection super- 
fluous." 

A shrewd old gentleman who stood listening 
by, with a mischievously equivocal look, observed 
that the most effectual mode of repulsing a fleet 
from our ports would be to administer them a 
proclamation from time to time, till it operated. 

Unwilling to leave the company without demon- 
strating my patriotism and ingenuity, I communi- 
cated a plan of defense ; which, in truth, was 
suggested long since by that infallible oracle, Mus- 
tapha, who had as clear a head for cobweb weav- 
ing as ever dignified the shoulders of a projector. 
He thought tlie most effectual mode would be to 
assemble all the slang-whangers, great and small, 
from all parts of the State, and marshal them at 
the Battery, where they should be exposed point- 
blank to the enemy, and form a tremendous body 
of scolding infantry, similar to the poissards, or 
doughty champions of Billingsgate. They should 
be exhorted to fire away without pity or re- 
morse, in sheets, half-sheets, columns, handbills, or 



INFLAMMATORY PROJECTORS. 293 

squibs ; great cannon, little cSniion, pica, Ger • 
man text, stereotype, and to run their enemies 
through and through with sharp-pointed italics. 
They should have orders to show no quarter — 
to blaze away in their loudest epithets — ^'mis- 
creants! " " murderers ! " "• barbarians ! " " pi' 
rates I '* " robbers! " " Blackguards ! " and to do 
away all fear of consequences, they sliould be 
guaranteed from all dangers of pillory, kicking, 
cuffing, nose-pulling, whipping-post, or prosecu- 
tion for libels. " If," continued Miistjipiui, "you 
wish men to fight well and valiantly, lliey must 
be allowed those weapons they have been used 
to handle. Your countrymen are notoriously 
adroit in the manao^ement of the tongue and the 
pen, and conduct all their battles by speeches or 
newspapers. Adopt, therefore, the plan I have 
pointed out ; and rely upon it that, let any fleet, 
however large, be but once assailed by this bat- 
tery of slang-whangers, and if they have not 
entirely lost the sense of hearing, or a regard 
for their own characters and feelings, they will, at 
the very first fire, slip their cables, and retreat 
with as much precipitation as if they had un- 
warily entered into the atmosphere of the Bohan 
upas. In this manner may your wars be con- 
ducted with proper economy ; and it will cost no 
more to drive off a fleet than to write up a party, 
or write down a bashaw with three tails." 

The sly old gentleman I have before mentioned, 
was highly delighted with this plan ; and pro- 
posed, as an impiovement, that mortars should 
be placed on the Battery, which, instead of throw- 



294 SALMACrUNDI. 

ing shells and such trifles, might be charged with 
newspapers, Tammany addresses, etc., by way of 
red-hot shot, which would undoubtedly be very 
potent in blowing up any powder magazine they 
might chance to come in contact with. He con- 
cluded by informing the company, that in the 
course of a few evenings, lie would have the 
honor to present them with a scheme for load- 
ing certain vessels with newspapers, resolutions 
of " numerous and respectable meetings," and 
other combustibles, which vessels were to be 
blown directly in the midst of the enemy by the 
bellows of the slang-whangers ; and he was much 
mistaken if they would not be more fatal than 
fire-ships, bomb-ketches, gun-boats, or even tor- 
pedoes. 

These are but two or three specimens of the 
nature and efficacy of the iimumerable plans with 
which this city abounds. Everybody seems 
charged to the muzzle with gunpowder — every 
eye flashes fire- works and torpedoes — and every 
corner is occupied by knots of inflammatory pro- 
jectors, not one of whom but has some pre- 
posterous mode of destruction, which he has 
proved to be infallible by a previous experiment 
in a tub of water ! 

Even Jeremy Cockloft has caught the infection, 
to the great annoyance of the inhabitants of 
Cockloft Hall, whither he retired to make his 
experiments undisturbed. At one time all the 
mirrors in the house were unhung — their col- 
lected rays thrown into the hot-house, to try 
Archimedes' plan of burning-glasses ; and the 



A PROJECTOR. 295 

honest old gardener was almost knocked down by 
what he mistook for a stroke of the sun, but 
which turned out to be nothing more than a 
sudden attack of one of these tremendous jack-o'- 
lanterns. It became dangerous to walk through 
the court-yard for fear of an explosion ; and tlie 
whole family was thrown into absolute distress 
and consternation, by a letter from the old house- 
keeper to Mrs. Cockloft, informing her of his 
having blown up a favorite Chinese gander, which 
I had brought from Canton, as he was majestically 
sailing in the duck-pond. 

" In the multitude of counselors there is 
safety ; " if so, the defenseless city of Gotham has 
nothing to apprehend ; but much do I fear that so 
many excellent and infalHble projects will be 
presented, that we shall be at a loss which to 
adopt ; and the peaceable inhabitants fare like a 
famous projector of my acquaintance, wiiose 
house was unfortunately plundered while he was 
contriving a patent lock to secure his door. 



FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 
A retrospect; or, "what you will." 

LOLLING in my elbow-chair this fine summer 
noon, I feel myself insensibly yielding to 
that genial feeling of indolence the season is so 
well fitted to inspire. Every one who is blessed 
with a little of the delicious languor of disposition 



296 SALMAGUNDI. 

that delights in repose, must often have sported 
among the fairy scenes, the golden visions, the 
voluptuous reveries, that swim before the im- 
agination at such moments, and which so much 
resemble those blissful sensations a Mussulman 
enjoys after his favorite indulgence of opium, 
which Will Wizard declares can be compared to 
nothing but '' swimming in an ocean of peacocks' 
feathers." In such a mood everybody must be 
sensible it would be idle and unprofitable for a 
man to send his wits a gadding on a voyage of 
discovery into futurity, or even to trouble himself 
with a laborious investigation of what is actually 
pas ing under his eye. We are, at such times, 
more disposed to resort to the pleasures of memory 
than to those of the imagination ; and, like the 
wayfaring traveller, reclining for a moment on his 
staff, had rather contemplate the ground we have 
travelled, than the region which is yet before us. 
I could here amuse myself, and stultify my 
readers, with a most ehdjorate and ingenious par- 
allel between authors and travellers ; but in this 
balmy season, which makes men stupid and dogs 
mad, and when, doubtless, many of our most stren- 
uous admirers have great difficulty in keeping 
awake through the day, it would be cruel to saddle 
them with the formidable difficulty of putting 
two ideas together and drawing a conclusion, or, 
in the learned phrase, forging syllogisms in Ba^ 
roco — a terrible undertaking for the dog-days! 
To say the truth, my observations were only in- 
tended to prove that this, of all others, is the 
most auspicious moment, and my present, the 



A RETROSPECT. 297 

favorable mood for indulging in a retrospect. 
Whether, like certain great personages of the 
day, in attempting to prove one thing, I have ex- 
posed another ; or whether, like certain other 
great personages, in attempting to prove a great 
deal, I have proved nothing at all, I leave to my 
readers to decide, provided they have the power 
and inclination so to do ; but a retrospect will I 
take, notwithstanding. 

I am perfectly aware that in doing this I shall 
lay myself open to the charge of imitation, than 
which a man might be better accused of down- 
right housebreaking ; for it has been a standing 
rule with many of my illustrious predecessors, 
occasionally, and particularly at the conclusion of 
a volume, to look over their shoulder and chuckle 
at the miracles they had achieved. But, as I 
before professed, I am determined to hold myself 
entirely independent of all manner of opinions 
and criticisms, as the only method of getting on 
in this world in anything like a straiglit line. 
True it is, I may sometimes seem to angle a little 
for the good opinion of mankind, by giving them 
some excellent reasons for doing unreasonable 
things ; but this is merely to show tliem, that al- 
tliQtigh I may occasionally go wrong, it is not for 
want of knowing how to go right ; and here I 
will lay down a maxim, which will forever entitle 
me to the gratitude of my inexperienced readers, 
namely, that a man always gets more credit in 
the eyes of this naughty world for sinning will- 
fully than for sinning through sheer ignorance. 

It will doubtless be insisted by many ingenious 



298 SALMAGUNDI. 

cavilers, who will be meddling with what doea 
not at all concern them, that this retrospect should 
have been taken at the commencement of our 
second volume ; it is usual, I know : moreover it 
is natural. So soon as a writer has once ac- 
complished a volume, he forthwith becomes 
wonderfully increased in attitude ! he steps upon 
his book as upon a pedestal, and is elevated in 
proportion to its magnitude. A duodecimo makes 
him one inch taller ; an octavo, three inches ; 
a quarto, six ; but he who has made out to swell 
a folio looks down upon his fellow creatures from 
such a fearful height that, ten to one, the poor 
man's head is turned forever afterward. From 
such a lofty situation, therefore, it is natural an 
author should cast his eyes behind, and having 
reached the first landing-place on the stairs of 
immortality, may reasonably be allowed to plead 
his privilege to look back over the height he has 
ascended. I have deviated a little from this 
venerable custom, merely that our retrospect 
might fall in the dog days — of all days in the 
year most congenial to the indulgence of a little 
self-sufficiency, inasmuch as people have then 
little to do but to retire within the sphere of 
self, and make the most of what they find there. 
Let it not be supposed, however, that we think 
ourselves a whit the wiser or better since we 
have finished our volume than we were before ; 
on the contrary, we seriously assure our readers 
that we were fully possessed of all the wisdom 
and morality it contains at the moment we com- 
menced writing. It is, the world which has grown 



IRON-BOUND PHYSIOGNOMIES. 299 

wiser, not us ; we have thrown our mite into the 
common stock of knowledge, we have shared 
our morsel with the ignorant multitude ; and 
so far from elevating ourselves above the world, 
our sole endeavor has been to raise the world 
to our own level, and make it as wise as we, its 
disinterested benefactors. 

To a moral writer like myself, who, next to 
his own comfort and entertainment, has the good 
of his fellow citizens at heart, a retrospect is but a 
sorry amusement. Like the industrious husband- 
man, he often contemplates in silent disappoint- 
ment his labors wasted on a barren soil, or the 
seeds he has carefully sown, choked by a redun- 
dancy of worthless weeds. I expected long ere this 
to have seen a complete reformation in manners 
and morals, achieved by our united efforts. My 
fancy echoed to the applauding voices of a retrieved 
generation ; I anticipated, with proud satisfaction, 
the period, not far distant, when our work would 
be introduced into the academies with which every 
lane and alley of our cities abounds ; when our 
precepts would be gently inducted into every un- 
lucky urchin by force of birch, and my iron-bound 
physiognomy, as taken by Will Wizard, be as 
notorious as that of Noah Webster, junr. Esq. or 
his no less renowned predecessor, the illustrious 
Dilworth of spelling-book immortality .-'^ But, 

1 Dr. Francis, in his remarks on the life and character of 
"Washington Irving, before the Historical Societ}'-, alludes to 
this contiict of spelling-books at the school in which they were 
both instructed. " There was a curious contiict existing in 
the school between the principal and his assistant instructor; 



300 SALMAGUNDI. 

well-a-day ! to let my readers into a profound 
secret — the expectations of man are like the 
varied hues that tinge the distant prospect ; never 
to be realized, never to be enjoyed but in per- 
spective. Luckless Launcelot, that the humblest 
of the many air castles thou hast erected should 
prove a " baseless fabric I " Much does it grieve 
me to confess, that after all our lectures, precepts, 
and excellent admonitions, the people of New 
York are nearly as much given to backsliding and 
ill-nature as ever ; they are just as mucii aban- 
doned to dancino; and tea-drinking ; and as to 
scandal, Will Wizard informs me that, by a 
rough computation, since the last cargo of gun- 
powder-tea from Canton, no less than eighteen 
characters have been blown up, besides a number 
of others that have been wofully shattered. 

The ladies still labor under the same scarcity 
of muslins, and delight in flesh-colored silk stock- 
ings : it is evident, however, that our advice has 
had very considerable effect on them, as they en- 
deavor to act as opposite to it as possible ; this 
being what Evergreen calls female independence. 
As to Straddles, they abound as much as ever in 
Broadway, particularly on Sundays ; and Wizaid 
roundly asserts that he supped in company with 
a knot of them a few evenings since, when they 

the former a legitimate burgher of the city, the latter a New 
England pedagogue. So far as I can remember, something 
depended on the choice of the boy's parents in the selection 
of his studies; but if not expressed otherwise, the principal 
stuck earnestly to Dilworth, while the assistant, for his 
BBction of instruction, held to Noah Webster." 



PUNSTERS. 301 

UquiJated a whole Birmingham coFisignment, in a 
batch of imperial champagne. I have, further- 
more, in the course of a month past, detected no 
less than three Giblet families mukins: their first 
onset toward style and gentility in the very 
manner we have heretofore reprobated. Nor 
have our utmost efforts been able to check the 
progress of that alarming epidemic, the rage for 
punning, which, though doubtless originally in- 
tended merely to ornament and enliven conver- 
sation by little sports of fancy, threatens to over- 
run and poison the whole, like the baneful ivy 
which destroys the useful plant it first embellished. 
Now I look upon a habitual punster as a dep- 
redator upon conversation ; and I have remarked 
sometimes one of these offenders, sitting silent on 
the watch for an hour together, until some luck- 
less wight, unfortunately for the ease and quiet 
of the company, dropped a phrase susceptible of 
a double meaning ; when — pop, our punster 
would dart out like a veteran mouser from her 
covert, seize the unlucky word, and after worry- 
ing and mumbling at it until it was capable of no 
further marring, relapse again into silent watch- 
fulness, and lie in wait for another opportunity. 
Even this might be borne with, by the aid of a 
little philosophy ; but the worst of it is, they are 
not content to manufacture puns and laugh heart- 
ily at them themselves ; but they expect we 
should laugh with them, which I consider as an 
intolerable hardship, and a flagrant imposition on 
good-nature. Let those gentlemen fritter away 
conversation with impunity, and deal out their 



302 SALMAGUNDI. 

wits in sixpenny bits if they please ; but I beg 
I may have the choice of refusing currency to 
their small change. I am seriously afi-aid, how- 
ever, that our junto is not quite free from the in- 
fection — nay, that it has even approaclied so 
near as to menace the tranquillity of my elbow- 
chair; for Will Wizard, as we were in caucus 
the other night, absolutely electrified Pindar and 
myself with a >nost palpable and perplexing pun; 
had it been a torpedo, it could not have more dis- 
composed the fraternity. Sentence of banish- 
ment was unanimously decreed ; but on his con- 
fessing that, like many celebrated wits, he was 
merely retailing other men's wares on commission, 
he was for that once forgiven on condition of re- 
fraining from such diabolical practices in future. 
Pindar is particularly outrageous against punsters ; 
and quite astonished and put me to a nonplus a 
day or two since, by asking al)ruptly " whether I 
thought a punster could be a good Christian ? " 
He followed up his question triumphantly by of- 
fering to prove, by sound logic and historical fact, 
that the Roman Empire owed its decline and fall 
to a pun ; and that nothing tended so much to de- 
moralize the French nation, as their abominable 
rage ^oy jeux de mots. 

But what, above everything else, has caused 
me much vexation of spirit, and displeased me 
most with this stiff-necked nation is, that in spite 
of all the serious and profound censures of the 
sage Mustapha, in his various letters — they will 
talk! — tliey will still wag their tongues, and 
chatter like very slang- whangers ! This is a de- 



A BEQUEST TO POSTERITY. 303 

gree of obstinancy incomprehensible in the ex: 
treme ; and is another proof how alarming is the 
force of habit, and how difficult it is to reduce be- 
ings, accustomed to talk, to that state of silence 
which is the very acme of human wisdom. 

We can only account for these disappointments 
in our moderate and reasonable expectations, by 
supposing the world so deeply sunk in tlie miie of 
delinquency, that not even Hercules, were he to 
put his shoulder to the axletree, would be able to 
extricate it. We comfort ourselves, however, by 
the reflection that there are at least three good 
men left in this degenerate age to benefit the 
world by example, should precept ultimately fail. 
And borrowing, for once, an example from certain 
sleepy writers who, after the first emotions of sur- 
prise at finding their invaluable effusions neglected 
or despised, console themselves with the idea that 
*tis a stupid age, and look forward to posterity 
for redress, we bequeath our volume to future 
generations — and much good may it do them. 
Heaven grant they may be able to read it ! for, if 
our fashionable mode of education continues to 
improve, as of late, I am under serious apprehen- 
sions that the period is not far distant when the 
discipline of the dancing-master will supersede 
that of the grammarian ; crotchets and quavers 
supplant the alphabet : and the heels, by an anti- 
podean maneuver, obtain entire preeminence over 
the head. How does my heart yearn for poor, 
dear posterity, when this work shall become unin- 
telligible to our grandchildren, as it seems to be 
their grandfathers and grandmothers. 



304 SALMAGUNDI. 

In fact — for I love to be candid — we begin to 
suspect that many people read our numbers merely 
for their amusement, without paying any attention 
to the serious truths conveyed in every page. 
Unpardonable want of penetration ! not thai we 
wish to restrict our readers in the article of laugh- 
ing, which we consider as one of the dearest pre- 
rogatives of man, and the distinguishing character- 
istic which raises him above all other animals : 
let them laugh, therefore, if they will, provided 
they profit at the same time, and do not mistake 
our object. It is one of our indisputable facts 
that it is easier to laugh ten follies out of counte- 
nance than to coax, reason, or flog a man out of 
one. In this odd, singular, and indescribable age, 

— which is neither the age of gold, silver, iron, 
brass, chivalry, or pills, as Sir John Carr asserts, 

— a grave writer who attempts to attack folly with 
the heavy artillery of moral reasoning, will fare 
like Smollett's honest pedant, who clearly demon- 
strated by angles, etc., after the manner of Euclid, 
that it was wrong to do evil — and was laughed at 
for his pains. Take my word for it, a little well- 
applied ridicule, like Haiuiibal's application of 
vinegar to rocks, will do more with certain hard 
heads and obdurate hearts, than all the logic or 
demonstrations in Lon^inus or Euclid, But the 
people of Gotham, wise souls ! are so much ac- 
customed to see Morality approach them clothed 
in formidable wigs and sable garbs, " with leaden 
eye that loves the ground," that they can never 
recognize her when, drest in gay attire, she comes 
tripping toward them with smiles and sunshine 



RAYS OF SUNSHINE. 305 

in her countenance. — Well, let the rogues re- 
main in happy ignorance, for " ignorance is bliss '* 
as the poet snys — and I put as implicit faith in 
poetry as I do in the almanac or the newspaper. 
We will improve them, without their being the 
wiser for it, and they shall become better in spite 
of their teeth, and without their having the least 
suspicion of the reformation working within tliem. 

Amono; all our manifold st'ievances, however, 
still some small but vivid rays of sunshine occa- 
sionally brighten along our path ; cheering our 
steps, and inviting us to persevere. 

The public have paid some little regard to a 
few articles of our advice ; they have purchased 
our numbers fi-eely — so much the better for our 
publisher ; they have read them attentively — so 
much the better for themselves. The inelancholy 
fate of my dear aunt Charity has had a wonder- 
ful effect ; and I have now before me a letter 
from a gentleman who lives opposite to a couple 
of old ladies, remarkable for the interest they took 
in his affairs ; his apartments were absolutely in 
a state of blockade, and he was on the point of 
changing his lodgings, or capitulating, until the 
appearance of our ninth number, which he imme- 
diately sent over witli his compliments. The 
good ladies took the hint, and have scarcely ap- 
peared at their window since. As to the wooden 
gentlemen, our friend, Miss Sparkle, assures me, 
they are wonderfully improved by our criticisms, 
and sometimes venture to make a remark, or at- 
tempt a pun in company, to the great edification 
of all who happen to understand them. As to 

20 



306 SALMAGUNDI. 

the red shawls, they are entirely discarded from 
the fair shoulders of our ladies — ever since the 
last importation of finery — nor has any lady, 
since the cold weather, ventured to expose her el- 
bows to the admiring gaze of scrutinizing passen- 
gers. But there is one victory we have achieved 
which has given us more pleasure than to have 
vs^ritten down the whole administration : I am as 
Bured, from unquestionable authoiity, that our 
young ladies — doubtless in consequence of our 
weighty admonitions — have not once indulged 
in that intoxicating, inflammatory, and whirhgig 
dance, the waltz — ever since hot weather com- 
menced. True it is, I understand an attempt 
was made to exhibit it by some of the sable fair 
ones at the last African ball, but it was hiorhlv 
disapproved of by all the respectable elderly la- 
dies present. 

These are sweet sources of comfort to atone 
for the many wrongs and misrepresentations 
heaped upon us by the world — for even we have 
experienced its ill-nature. How often have we 
heard ourselves reproached for the insidious appli- 
cations of the uncharitable ! how often have we 
been accused of emotions which never found an 
entrance into our bosoms ! how often have our 
sportive effusions been wrested to serve tlie pur- 
poses of particular enmity and bitterness ! Meddle- 
some spirits ! little do they know our disposition : 
we " lack gall " to wound the feelings of a single 
innocent individual ; we can even forgive them 
from the very bottom of our souls ; may they 
meet as ready a forgiveness from their own con- 



A PLEASING CONSOLATION. 307 

sciences ! Like true and independent bachelors, 
having no domestic cares to interfere with our 
general benevolence, we consider it incumbent 
upon us to watch over the welfare of society ; 
and although we are indebted to the world for 
little else than left-handed favors, yet we feel a 
proud satisfaction in requiting evil with good, and 
the sneer of illiberality with the unfeigned smile 
of good humor. With these mingled motives of 
selfishness and philanthropy we commenced our 
work, and if we cannot solace ourselves with the 
consciousness of having done much good, yet there 
is still one pleasing consolation left, which the 
world can neither give nor take away. Tliere 
are moments — lingerinir moments of listless in- 
difference and heavy-hearted despondency — when 
our best hopes and affections slipping, as they 
sometimes will, from their hold on those objects to 
which they usually cling for support, seem aban- 
doned on the wide waste of cheerless existence, 
without a place to cast anchor ; without a shoie in 
view to excite a single wish, or to give a momentary 
interest to contemplation. We look back with de- 
light upon many of these moments of mental gloom, 
whiled away by the cheerful exercise of our pen, 
and consider every such triumph over the spleen as 
r^jtarding the furrowing hand of time in its insid- 
ious encroachments on our brows. If, in addition 
to our own amusement, we have, as we jogged 
carelessly laughing along, brushed away one tear 
of dejection and called forth a smile in its place 
— if we have brightened the pale countenance of 
a child of sorrow, — we shall feel almost as much. 



808 SALMAGUNDI... 

joy and rejoicing as a slang-whanger does when he 
bathes his pen in the heart's blood of* a patron 
and benefactor, or sacrifices one more ilhistrious 
victim on the altar of party animosity. 



TO READERS AND CORRESPONDENTS." 

IT is our misfortune to be frequently pestered, 
in our peregrinations about this blessed city, 
by certain critical gad-flies ; who buzz around 
and merely attack the skin, without ever being 
able to penetrate the body. The reputation of 
our promising protege, Jeremy Cockloft the 
younger, has been assailed by these skin-deep crit- 
ics ; they have questioned his claims to origi- 
nality, and even hinted that the ideas for his New 
Jersey Tour were borrowed from a late work 
entitled "My Pocket-book." As there is no lit- 
erary offense more despicable in the eyes of the 
trio than borrowing, we immediately called Jer- 
emy to an account ; when he proved, by the ded- 
ication of the work in question, that it was first 
published in London in March, 1807; and that 
his " Stranger in New Jersey " had made its aj^- 
pearance on the 24th of the preceding February. 
We were on the point of acquitting Jeremy 
with honor on the ground that it was impossible, 
knowing as he is, to borrow from a foreign work 
one month before it was in existence ; when Will 
Wizard suddenly took up the cudgels for the crit- 



TO TEDDY M' GUNDY. 309 

ics, and insisted that nothing was more probable , 
for he recollected readinu; of an ingfenious Dutch 
author who plainly convicted the ancients of steal- 
ing from his labors ! — So much for criticism. 



We have received a host of friendly and ad- 
monitory letters from different quarters, and 
among the rest a very loving epistle from George- 
town, Columbia, signed Teddy M' Gundy, who 
addresses us by the name of Saul M' Gundy, 
and insists that we are descended from the 
same Irish progenitors, and nearly related. As 
friend Teddy seems to be an honest, merry 
rogue, we are sorry tliat we cannot admit his 
claims to kindred ; we thank him, however, for 
his good-will, and should he ever be inclined to 
favor us with another epis^tle, we will hint to him, 
and at the same time to our other numerous cor- 
respondents, that their communications will be 
infinitely more acceptable if they will just recol- 
lect Tom Shuffleton's advice, " pay the post-boy, 
Muggins." 







NO. XIV. — SATURDAY, SEPT. 16, 1807. 

LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 
KHAN, 

TO A8EM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS 
HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLL 

JEALTH and joy to the friend of my 
heart ! Ma}'^ the angel of peace ever 
watch over thy dwelling, and the star 
of prosperity shed its benignant lustre on all thy 
undertakings. Far other is the lot of thy cap- 
tive friend : his brightest hopes extend but to a 
lengthened period of weary captivity, and mem- 
ory only adds to the measure of his griefs, by 
holding up a mirror which reflects with re- 
doubled charms the hours of past felicity. In 
midnio-ht slumbers mv soul holds sweet converse 
with the tender objects of its affections: it is 
then the exile is restored to his country : it 
is then the wide waste of waters that rolls 
between us disappears, and I clasp to my bosom 
the companion of my youth ; I awake and find 
it but a vision of the ni";ht. The sigh will 
rise ; the tear of dejection will steal adown my 
cheek ; I fly to my pen, and strive to forget 
myself, and my sorrows, in conversing with my 
friend. 

In such a situation, my good Asem, it cannot 



POLITICS, 311 

be expected that I should be able so wholly to 
abstract myself from my own feelings, as to give 
thee a full and systematic account of the sincrular 
people among whom my disastrous lot has l)eea 
cast. I can only find leisure, from my own in- 
dividual sorrows, to entertain thee occasionally 
with some of the most prominent features of 
their character ; and now and then a sohtary 
picture of their most preposterous eccentricities. 

I have before observed, that among the dis- 
tmguishing characteristics of the people of this 
logocracy, is their invincible love of talking ; and, 
that I could compare the nation to nothTng but 
a mighty windmill. Thou art doubtless at a 
loss to conceive how this mill is supplied with 
grist ; or, m other words, how it is possible to 
furnish subjects to supply the perpetual motion 
ot so many tongues. 

--The genius of the nation appears in its hicrh- 
est lustre in this particular in the discovery,*or 
rather the application of a subject which seems 
to supply an inexhaustible mine of words. It 
is nothing more, my friend, than - politics " ; a 
word which, I declare to thee, has perplexed me 
almost as much as the redoubtable one of economy. 
On consulting a dictionary of this languao-e, I 
found It denoted the science of government T and 
the relations, situations, and dispositions of states 
and empires. Good ! thought I ; for a people 
who boast of governing themselves, there could 
Qot be a more important subject of investigation. 
1 therefore listened attentively, expecting to hear 
from " the most enlightened people under the 



312 SALMAGUNDI. 

sun," — for so they modestly term themselves, — 
sublime disputations on the science of legislation, 
and precepts of political wisdom that would not 
have disgraced our great prophet and legislator 
himself! — but, alas, Asem ! how continually are 
my expectations disappointed ! how dignified a 
meaning does this word bear in the dictionary; 
how despicable its common application ; I find it 
extending to every contemptibl-e discussion of local 
animosity, and every petty altercation of insignif- 
icant individuals. It embraces, alike, all manner 
of concerns ; fiom the organization of a divan, 
the election of a bashaw, or the levying of an 
army, to the appointment of a constable, the 
personal disputes of two miserable slang-whang- 
ers, the cleaning of the streets, or the economy 
of a dirt cart. A couple of politicians w'ill 
quarrel, with the most vociferous pertinacity, 
about the character of a bum-bailiff whom no- 
body cares for ; or the deportment of a little 
great man whom nobody knows ; and this is 
called talking politics ; nay ! it is but few days 
since that I was annoyed by a debate between 
two of my fellow lodgers, who were magnani- 
mously employed in condemning a luckless 
wight to infamy, because he chose to wear a 
red coat, and to entertain certain erroneous opin- 
ions some thirty years ago. Shocked at their 
illiberal and vindictive spirit, I rebuked them for 
thus indulging in slander and un charitablenesses, 
about the color of a coat, which had doubtless 
for many years been worn out ; or the belief in 
errors, which in all probability had been long 



THE LOGOCRACT. 513 

since atoned for and abandoned ; but they justi- 
fied themselves by alleging that they were only 
engaged in politics, and exerting that liberty of 
speech, and freedom of discussion, which was the 
glory and safeguard of their national indepen- 
dence. " O Mahomet ! " thought I, " what a coun- 
try must that be, which builds its political safety 
on ruined characters and the persecution of indi- 
viduals ! " 

Into what transports of surprise and incredulity 
am I continually betrayed, as the character of this 
eccentric people gradually develops itself to my 
observations. Every new research increases the 
perplexities in which I am involved, and I am 
more than ever at a loss where to place them in 
the scale of my estimation. It is thus the phi- 
losopher, in pursuing truth through the labyrinth 
of doubt, error, and misrepresentation, frequently 
finds himself bewildered in the mazes of contra- 
dictory experience ; and almost wishes he could 
quietly retrace his wandeiing steps, !?teal back 
into the path of honest ignorance, and jog on 
once more in contented indifference. 

How fertile in these contradictions is this ex- 
tensive logocracy ! Men of different nations, man- 
ners, and languages, live in this country in the 
most perfect harmony ; and nothing is more com- 
mon than to see individuals, whose respective 
governments are at variance, taking each other 
by the hand and exchanging the offices of friend- 
siiip. Nay, even on the subject of religion, 
which, as it affects our dearest interests, our earli- 
est opini(ms and prejudices, some warmth and 



314 SALMAGUNDI. 

heart-burnings might be excused, which, even In 
our enh'ghtened country, is so fruitful in differ- 
ence between man and man ! — even religion 
occasions no dissension among these people ; and 
it has even been discovered, by one of their 
sages, that believing in one god or twenty gods 
" neither breaks a man's leg nor picks his pock- 
et." ^ The idolatrous Persian may here bow 
down before his everlasting fire, and prostrate 
himself toward the glowing east. The Chinese 
may adore his Fo, or his Josh ; the Egyptian his 
stork ; and the Mussulman practice, unmolested, 
the divine precepts of our immortal prophet. 
Nay, even the forlorn, abandoned Atheist, who 
lies down at night without committing himself 
to the protection of Heaven, and rises in the 
morning without returning thanks for his safety ! 
who hath no deity but his own will ; whose soul, 
like the sandy desert, is barren of every flower 
of hope to throw a solitary bloom over the dead 
level of sterility and soften the wide extent of 
desolation ; whose darkened views extend not be- 
yond the horizon tliat bounds his cheerless exis- 
tence ; to whom no blissful perspective opens be- 
yond the grave — even he is suffered to indulge 
in his desperate opinions, without exciting one 
other emotion than pity or contempt. But this 
mild and tolerating spirit reaches not beyond the 

1 Jefferson in his Notes on Virginia, says, " Tiie legislative 
powers of government extend to such acts only as are in- 
jurious to others. But it does me no injury for my neighbor 
to say there are twenty gods or no god. It neither picks luy 
pocket nor breaks my leg." 



THE RAGE FOR TALKING. 315 

pale of religion : once differ in politics, in mere 
theories, visions, and chimeras, the growth of in- 
terest, of folly, or madness, and deadly warfare 
ensues ; every eye flashes fire, every tongue is 
loaded with reproach, and every heart is filled 
with gall and bitterness. 

At this period several unjustifiable and seri- 
ous injuries on the part of the barbarians of the 
British Island, have given a new impulse to the 
tongue and the pen, and occasioned a terrible 
wordy fever. Do not suppose, my friend, that I 
mean to condemn any proper and dignified ex- 
pression of resentment for injuries. On the con- 
trary, 1 love to see a word before a blow ; for 
" in the fullness of the heart the tongue moveth." 
But my long experience has convinced me, that 
people who talk the most about taking satisfac- 
tion for affronts, generally content themselves with 
talkino^ instead of revengiiio[ the insult ; like the 
street women of this country, who after a prodi- 
gious scolding, quietly sit down and fan them- 
selves cool as fast as possible. But to return : 
the rage for talking has no\v, in consequence of 
the agressions 1 alhided to, increased to a degree 
far beyond what I have obseived heretofore. In 
the gardens of His Highiiess of Tripoli are fifteen 
thousand bee-hives, three hundred peacocks, and 
a prodigious number of parrots and baboons ; and 
yet I declare to thee, Asem, that their buzzing, 
and squalling, and chattering is nothing compared 
to the wild uproar and war of words, now raging 
within the bosom of this mighty and distracted 
logocracy. Politics pervade every city, evei-y 



316 SALMAGUNDI. 

village, every temple, every porter house : the 
universal question is, " what is the news ? " 
This is a kind of challenge to political debate ; 
and as no two men think exactly alike, 'tis ten to 
one, but before they finish, all the polite phrases 
in the language are exhausted by way of giving 
lire and energy to argument. What renders this 
talking fever more alarming is, that the people 
appear to be in the unhappy state of a patient 
whose palate nauseates the medicine best calcu- 
lated for the cure of his disease, and seem anxious 
to continue the fidl enjoyment of their chattering 
epidemic. They alarm each other by direful re- 
ports and fearful apprehensions ; like I have seen 
a lot of old wives in this country entertain them- 
selves with stories of ghosts and goblins until 
their imaginations were in a most agonizing 
panic. Every day begets some new tale, big 
with agitation ; and the busy goddess, Rumor, to 
speak in the poetic language of the Christians, is 
constantly in motion. Slie mounts her rattling 
stage-wagon, and gallops about the country, 
freighted with a load of " hints," " informations," 
"" extracts of letters from respectable gentlemen," 
"observations of respectable correspondents," and 
" unquestionable authorities ;" — which her high- 
priests, the slang-whangei's, retail to their sapient 
followers, with all the solemnity, and all the au- 
thenticity of oracles. True it is, the unfortunate 
slang-whangers are sometimes at a loss for food, 
to supply this insatiable appetite for intelligence ; 
and are, not unfrequently, reduced to the necessity 
of manufacturin;/ dishes suited to the taste of the 



A BATTLE OF WORDS. 317 

times, to be served up as morning and evening 
repasts to their disciples. 

When the hungry politician is tlius full 
charged with important information, he sallies 
forth to give due exercise to his tongue ; and tells 
all he knows, to everybody he meets. Now it is 
a thousand to one that every person he meets is 
just as wise as himself, charged with the same 
articles of information, and possessed of the same 
violent inclination to give it vent ; for in this 
country every man adopts some particular slang- 
whanger, as the standard of his judgment, and 
reads everything he writes if he reads nothing 
else ; which is doubtless the reason why the peo- 
ple of this logocracy are so mai-velously enlight- 
ened. So away they tilt at each other with their 
borrowed lances, advancinor to the combat with 
the opinions and speculations of their respective 
slang-whangers, which, in all probability, are 
diametrically opposite. Here then arises as ftiir 
an opportunity for a battle of words as heart 
could wish ; and thou mayst rely upon it, 
Asem, they do not let it pass unimproved. They 
sometimes begin with argument ; but in process 
of time, as the tongue begins to wax wanton, 
other auxiliaries become necessary ; recrimination 
commences ; reproach follows close at its heels ; 
from political abuse they proceed to personal, 
and thus often is a friendship of years trampled 
down by this contemptible enemy, this gigantic 
dwarf of politics, the mongrel issue of grovel- 
ing ambition and aspiring ignorance ! 

There would be but little harm, indeed, in all 



318 SALMAGUNDf. 

this, if it ended merely in a broken head ; for this 
might soon be healed, and the scar, if any re- 
mained, might serve as a warning ever after 
against the indulgence of political intemperance ; 
at the worst, the loss of such heads as these 
would be a gain to the nation. But the evil ex- 
tends far deeper ; it threatens to impair all social 
intercourse, and even to sever the sacred union 
of family and kindred. The convivial table is 
disturbed ; the cheerful fireside is invaded ; tlie 
smile of social hilarity is chased away ; the 
bond of social love is broken by the everlasting 
intrusion of this fiend of contention, who lurks 
in the sparkling bowl, crouches by the fireside, 
in the friendly circle, infests every avenue to 
pleasure ; and, like the scowling incubus, sits on 
the bosom of society, pressing down and smothering 
every throb and pulsation of liberal philanthropy. 
But thou wilt perhaps ask, '• What can these 
people dispute about? One would suppose that, 
being all free and equal, they would harmonize 
as brothers; children of the same parent, and 
equal heirs of the same inheritance." This the- 
ory is most exquisite, my good friend, but in 
practice it turns out the very dream of a mad- 
man. Equality, Asem, is one of tlie most consum- 
mate scoundrels tliat ever crept from the brain 
of a political juggler — a fellow who thrusts his 
hand into the pocket of honest industry, or en- 
terprising talent, and squanders their hard-earned 
profits on profligate idleness or indolent stupidity. 
There will always be an inequality among man- 
kind so long as a portion of it is enlightened 



EQUALITY. 319 

and industrious, and the rest idle and ignorant. 
The one will acquire a larger share of wealth, 
and its attendant comforts, refinements, and luxu- 
ries of life, and the influence and power which 
those will always possess who have the greatest 
ability of administering to the necessities of their 
fellow creatures. These advantages will inevit- 
ably excite envy ; and envy as inevitably begets 
ill-will — hence arises that eternal warfare which 
the lower orders of society are waging against 
those who have raised themselves by theii own 
merits, or have been raised by the merits of their 
ancestors, above the common level. In a nation 
possessed of quick feelings and impetuous pas- 
sions, the hastility might engender deadly broils 
and bloody commotions ; but here it merely vents 
itself in hifjli-soundinj; words, which lead to con- 
tinual breaches of decorum, or in the insidious 
assassination of character, and a restless propen- 
sity among the base to blacken every reputation 
which is fairer than their own. 

I cannot help smiling, sometimes, to see the so- 
licitude with which the people of America, so 
called from the country having been first discov- 
ered by Christopher Columbus, battle about 
them when any election takes place, as if they 
had the least concern in the matter, or were to be 
benefited by an exchange of bashaws ; they 
really seem ignorant that none but the biishaws 
and their dependents are at all interested in the 
event ; and that the people at large will not find 
their situation altered in the least. I formerly 
gave thee an account of an election which took 



320 SALMAGUNDI. 

place under my eye. The result has been that 
the people, as some of tlie slang-whangers say, 
have obtained a glorious triumph, which, how- 
ever, is flatly denied by the opposite slang- 
whangers, who insist that their party is composed 
of the true sovereign people ; and that the others 
are all jacobins, Frenchmen, and Irish rebels. I 
ought to apprise thee that the last is a term of 
great reproach here ; which, perhaps, thou wouldst 
not otherwise imagine, considering that it is not 
many years since this very people were engaged 
in a revolution ; the failure of which would have 
subjected them to the same ignominious epi- 
thet, and a participation in which is now the 
highest recommendation to public confidence. By 
Maliomet, but it cannot be denied that the con- 
sistency of this people, like everything eise ap- 
pertaining to them, is on a prodigious great scale ! 
To return, however, to the event of the election. 
The people triumphed ; and much good has it 
done them. I, for my part expected to see won- 
derful changes, and most magical metamorphoses. 
I expected to see the people all rich, that they 
would be all gentleman bashaws, riding in their 
coaches and faring sumptuously every day, eman- 
cipated from toil, and reveling in luxurious ease. 
Wilt thou credit me, Asem, when I declare imto 
thee, that everything remains exactly in the same 
state it was before the last wordy campaign ? ex- 
cept a few noisy retainers who have crept into 
office, and a few noisy patriots, on the other side, 
who have been kicked out, there is not the least 
difference. The laborer toils for his daily sup- 



A SWELL FISH. 321 

port ; the beggar still lives on the charity of 
those who have any charity to bestow; and the 
only solid satisfaction the multitude have reaped 
is, that they have got a new governor, or bashaw, 
whom they will praise, idolize, and exalt for a 
while, and afterward, notwithstanding the sterling 
merits he really possesses, in compliance with im- 
memorial custom, they will abuse, calumniate, 
and trample him under foot. 

Such, my dear Asem, is the way in which the 
wise people of "the most enlightened country 
under the sun," are amused with straws, and 
puffed up with mighty conceits ; like a certain 
fish I have seen here, which having his belly 
tickled for a short time, will swell and puff him- 
self up to twice his usual size, and become a 
mere bladder of wind and vanity. 

The blessing of a true Mussulman light on 
thee, good Asem ; ever, while thou livest, be true 
to thy prophet ; and rejoice that, though the 
boasting political chatterers of this logocracy 
cast upon thy countrymen the ignominious epi- 
thet of slaves, thou livest in a country where the 
people instead of being at the mercy of a tyrant 
with a million of heads, have nothing to do but 
submit to the will of a bashaw of only three 
tails. 

Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA, 



322 SALMAGUNDI. 

COCKLOFT HALL. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

THOSE who pass their time immured in the 
smoke of the city, amid the nitth'ng of carts, 
the brawlino: of the multitude, and the variety 
of discordant sounds tliat prey insensibly upon 
the nerves, and beget a weariness of the spirits, 
can alone understand and feel that expansion of 
the heart, that physical renovation wiiich a citi- 
zen experiences when he steals forth from his 
dusty prison, to breathe the free air of heaven, 
and enjoy the clear face of nature. Who thai 
has rambled by the side of one of our majestic 
rivers, at the hour of sunset, when the wildly 
romantic scenery around is sottened and tinted by 
the voluptuous mist of evening: when the bold 
and swelling outlines of the distant mountain 
seem melting into the glowing horizon, and a 
rich mantle of refulgence is thrown over the 
whole expanse of the heavens, but must have 
felt how abundant is nature in sources of pure 
enjoyment ; how luxuriant in all that can enliven 
the senses or delight the imagination. The jo- 
cund zephyr full freighted with native fragrance, 
sues sweetly to the senses ; the chirping of the 
thousand varieties of insects with which our 
woodlands abound forms a concert of simple mel- 
ody ; even the barking of :he farm dog, the 
lowing of the cattle, the tinkling of their bells, 
and the strokes of the woodman's axe from the 
opposite sliore, seem to partake of the softness 



REFLECTIONS. 323 

of the scene, and fall tunefully upon the ear; 
while the voice of the villager, chanting some 
rustic ballad, swells from a distance, in the sem- 
blance of the very music of harmonious love. 

At such times I am conscious of the influence 
of nature upon the heart ; a hallowed calm is 
diffused over my senses ; I cast my eyes around, 
and every object is serene, simple, and beautiful ; 
no warring passion, no discordant string, there 
vibrates to the touch of ambition, self-interest, 
hatred, or revenge; I am at peace with the 
whole world, and hail all mankind as friends and 
brothers. Blissful moments ! ye recall the care- 
less days of my boyhood, when mere existence 
was happiness, when hope was certainty, this 
world a paradise, and every woman a minister- 
ing angel ! Surely man was designed for a ten- 
ant of the universe, instead of being pent up in 
these dismal cages, these dens of strife, disease, 
and discord. We were created to ranse the 
fields, to sport among the groves, to build castles 
in the air, and have every one of them realized ! 

A whole legion of reflections like these insinu- 
ated themselves into my mind, and stole me from 
the influence of the cold realities before me, as I 
took my accustomed walk a few weeks since on 
the Battery. Here, watching the splendid muta- 
tions of one of our summer skies, which emulated 
the boasted glories of an Italian sunset, I all at 
once discovered that it was but pack up my port- 
manteau, bid adieu for awhile to my elbow-chair, 
and in a little time I should be transported from 
the region of smoke, and noise, and dust, to the 



324 SALMAGUNDI. 

enjoyment of a far sweeter prospect and a brighter 
sky. The next morning I was off full tilt to 
Cockloft Hall, leaving my man Pompey to follow 
at his leisure with my baggage. I love to in- 
dulge in rapid transitions, which are prompted by 
the quick impulse of the moment ; 'tis the only 
mode of guarding against that intruding and 
deadly foe to all parties of pleasure — anticipa- 
tion. 

Having now made good my retreat until the 
black frosts commence, it is but a piece of civility 
due to my readers, who I trust are, ere this, my 
friends, to give them a proper introduction to my 
present residence. I do this as much to gratify 
them as myself; well knowing a reader is always 
anxious to learn how his author is lodged, whether 
in a garret, a cellar, a hovel, or a palace ; at least 
an author is generally vain enough to think so ; 
and an author's vanity ought sometimes to be 
gratified. Poor devil ! it is often the only grati- 
fication he ever tastes in this world ! 

Cockloft Hall is the country residence of the 
family, or rather the paternal mansion ; which, 
like the mother country, sends forth wliole colo- 
nies to people the face of the earth. Pindar 
whimsically denominates it the family hive ! and 
there is at least as much truth as humor in my 
cousin's epithet ; for many a swarm has it pro- 
duced. I don't recollect whether I have at any 
time mentioned to my readers, for I seldom look 
back on what I have written, that the fertility of 
the Cocklofts is proverbial. The female mem- 
bers of the family are most incredibly fruitful ; 



COCKLOFT HALL. 325 

and to use a favorite phrase of old Cockloft, who 
is excessively addicted to backgammon, they sel- 
dom fail " to throw doublets every time." I my- 
self have known three or four very industrious 
young men reduced to great extremities by some 
of these capital breeders ; Heaven smiled upon 
their union, and enriched them with a numerous 
and hopeful offspring, who eat them out of doors. 
But to return to the Hall. It is pleasantly 
situated on the banks of a sweet pastoral stream ; 
not so near town as to invite an inundation of 
idle acquaintance, who come to lounge away an 
afternoon, nor so distant as to render it an abso- 
lute deed of charity or friend:?hip to perform the 
journey. It is one of the oldest habitations in 
the country, and was built by my cousin Chris- 
topher's grandfather, who was also mine by the 
mother's side, in his latter days, to form, as the 
old gentleman expressed himself, " a snug retreat, 
where he meant to sit himself down in his old 
days, and be comfortable for the rest of his life." 
He was at this time a few years over four-score ; 
but this was a common saying of his, with which 
he usually closed his airy speculations. One 
would have thought, from the long vista of years 
through which he contemplated many of his pro 
jects, that the good man had forgot the age of 
the patriarchs had long since gone by, and calcu- 
lated living a century longer at least. He was 
for a considerable time in doubt, on the question 
of roofing his house with shin<zles or slates: 
shingles would not last above thirty years ! but 
then they were much cheaper than slates. He 



326 SALMAGUNDI. 

settled the matter by a kind of compromise, and 
determined to build with shingles first ; " and 
when they are worn out," said the old gentleman, 
triumphantly, "'twill be time enough to replace 
them with more durable materials ! " But his 
contemplated improvements surpassed everything; 
and scarcely had he a roof over his head when 
he discovered a thousand things to be arranged 
before he could " sit down comfortably." In the 
first place, every tree and bush on the place was 
cut down or grubbed up by the roots, because 
they were not placed to his mind ; and a vast 
quantity of oaks, chestnuts, and elms, set out in 
clumps, and rows, and labyrinths, which, he ob- 
served, in about five-and-twenty or thirty years 
at most, would yield a very tolerable shade, and, 
moreover, would shut out all the surrounding 
country ; for he was determined, he said, to have 
all his views on his own land, and be beholden 
to no man for a prospect. This, my learned 
readers will perceive, was something very like 
the idea of Lorenzo de Medici, who gave as a 
reason for preferring one of his seats above all 
the others, " that all the ground within view of 
it was his own ; " now, whether my grandfather 
ever heard of the Medici is more than I can say ; 
I rather think, however, from the characteristic 
originality of the Cocklofts, that it was a whim- 
wham of his own begettinjj. Another odd notion 
of the old gentleman was to blow up a large bed 
of rocks for the purpose of having a fish-pond, 
although the river ran at about one hundred 
yards' distance from the house, and was well 



THE FISH-POND, 327 

stored with fish ; but there was nothing, he said, 
like having things to one's self. So at it he went, 
with all the ardor of a projector who has just hit 
upon some splendid and useless whimwham. As 
he proceeded, his views enlarged ; he would have 
a summer-house built on the margin of the fish- 
pond ; he would have it surrounded with elms 
and willows ; and he would have a cellar dug 
under it, for some incomprehensible purpose, 
which remains a secret to this day.-'^ "In a few 

1 The writer of the reminiscence, whom we have already 
cited in the previous mention of Cockloft Hall, Mr. W. A. 
Whitehead of Newark, describes the recent condition of the 
Bummer-house. " The old man," who serves the purpose of 
the narrator, " sighed and turned away his head, while he led 
the way to a small building standing not far from the river's 
brink, and near an artificial basin or pond, into which, as the 
tide was full, the Passaic was pouring some of its surplus wa- 
ters through a narrow sluice. It was octagonal in shape, 
about eighteen feet in diameter, containing only one apart- 
ment, with a door facing the river on the east, and having 
windows opening toward each of the other three cardinal 
points. It was built of stone, and had been originally wea- 
ther-boarded, although most of the boards had fallen off. It 
had evidently been constructed with great c^e, being fully 
plastered within and papered, having an ornamental cornice 
and chair-board, an arched doorway, and cut stone steps: all 
indicating a fastidiousness of finish not ordinarily found else- 
where than in dwellings; but it was far gone toward utter 
ruin, the window sashes being all out, the door gone, and the 
Diutilated wood-work showing it to be the resort onh" of the 
idle and the vicious. On looking to my companion for an 
explanation, he said: — 

" ' This, sir, was the Cockloft summer house, and this the 
fish-pond which Irving mentions when giving the portrait of 
the old proprietor. You may remember the passage, " an odd 



328 SALMAGUNDI. 

years," he observed, "it would be a delightful 
piece of wood and water, where he might ramble 
on a summer's noon, smoke his pipe, and enjoy 
himself in his old days ; " thrice honest old soul ! 
— he died of an apoplexy in his ninetieth year, 
just as he had begun to blow up tlie fish-pond. 

Let no one ridicule the whimwhams of my 
grandfather. If — and of this there is no doubt, 
for wise men have said it — if life be but a 
dream, happy is he who can make the most of 
the illusion. 

Since my grandfather's death the Hall has 
passed through the hands of a succession of true 

notion of the old gentleman was to blow up a large bed of 
rocks for the purpose of having a fish-pond, although the river 
ran at about one hundred yards' distance from the house, and 
was vtell stored with fish, but there was nothing, he said, nke 
having things to one's self. And he would have a sumruer- 
house built on the margin of the fish-pond; he would ha^ e it 
surrounded with elms and willows; and he would havj a 
cellar dug under it, for some incomprehensible purpose, wlJch 
remains a secret to this day." As I remember it, in the 
days of youth,' continued my aged friend, ' with its wind )w- 
seats and lockers, I think it requires no " Will Wizard " to 
solve the mj^stery of the cellar, but that there the bottles 
were kept that were wont to surrender their exhilarating con- 
tents at the summons of the occupants of the comfortable 
apartment above.' 

"•' As I commented on the peculiar position of the building, 
my companion remarked : — 

" ' Here, too, you see an illustration of a peculiarity of tha 
elder " Cockloft." " He was determined," says Irving, " to 
have all his views on his own land, and be beholden to no 
man for a prospect." So he placed, you see, the door of his 
summer-house on the side toward the water, while the win- 
dows all look inland.' " 



ANCIENT FURNITURE. 329 

old cavaliers, like himself, who gloried in observ- 
ing the golden rules of hospitality ; which, ac- 
cording to tiie Cockloft principle, consists in giv- 
ing a guest the freedom of the liouse, cramming 
him with beef and pudding, and, if possible, lay- 
ing him under the table with prime port, claret, 
or London Particular. The mansion appears to 
have been consecrated to the jolly god, and teems 
with monuments sacred to conviviality. Every 
chest of drawers, clothes-press, and cabinet is 
decorated with enormous China punch-bowls, 
which Mrs. Cockloft has paraded with much os- 
fentation, particularly in her favorite red damask 
bed-chamber, in which a projector might, with 
great satisfaction, practice his eyperiments on 
fleets, diving-bells, and submarine boats. 

I have before mentioned Cousin Christopher's 
profound veneration for antique furniture; in con- 
sequence of which the old hall is furnished in 
much the same style with the house in town. 
Old-fashioned bedsteads, with high testers ; massy 
clothes-presses, standing most majestically on 
eagles' claws, and ornamented with a profusion 
of shining brass handles, clasps, and hinges ; and 
around the grand parlor are solemnly arranged a 
set of high-backed, leather-bottomed, massy ma- 
hogany chairs, that always remind me of the for- 
mal, long-waisted belles who flourished in stays 
and buckram about the time they were in fashion. 

If I may judge from their height, it was not 
the fashion for gentlemen in those days to loll 
over the back of a lady's chair, and whisper in 
her ear what — might be as well spoken aloud ; 



330 SALMAGUNDI. 

at least, they must have been I'attigonians to 
have effected it. Will Wizard declares that he 
saw a little fat German gallant attempt once to 
whisper Miss Barbara Cockloft in this manner ; 
but being unluckily caught by the chin, he dan- 
gled and kicked about for half a minute before 
he could find terra firma — but Will is much ad- 
dicted to hyperbole, by reason of his having been 
a great traveller. 

But what the GDcklofts most especially pride 
themselves upon, is the possession of several fam- 
ily portraits, which exhibit as honest a set of 
square, portly, well-fed looking gentlemen arid 
gentlewomen as ever grew and flourished under 
the pencil of a Dutch painter. Old Christopher, 
who is a complete genealogist, lias a story to tell 
of each, and dilates with copious eloquence on 
the great services of the general iti large sleeves, 
during the old French war ; and on the piety of 
the lady in blue velvet, who so attentively pe- 
ruses her book, and was once so celebrated for 
a beautiful arm ; but, much as 1 reverence my 
illustrious ancestors, I find little to admire in 
their biography, except my cousin's excellent 
memory; which is most provokingly retentive of 
every uninteresting particular. 

My allotted chamber in the Hall is the same 
that was occupied in days of yore by my honored 
uncle John. The room exhibits many memorials 
which recall to my remembrance the solid excel- 
lence and amiable eccentricities of that gallant old 
ad. Over the mantel-piece hangs the portrait of 
a young lady dressed in a flaring, long-waisted, 



UNCLE JOHN'S ROOM. 331 

blue silk gown ; be-flowered, and be-furbelowed, 
and be-cufFed, in a most abundant manner ; she 
holds in one hand a book, which she very com- 
plaisantly neglects, to turn and smile on the spec- 
tator ; in the other a flower, which I hope, for the, 
honor of Dame Nature, was the sole production of 
the painter's imagination ; and a little behind her 
is something tied to a blue ribbon, but whether a 
little dog, a monkey, or a pigeon, must be left to 
the judgment of future commentators. This lit- 
tle damsel, tradition says, was my uncle John's 
third flame ; and he would infallibly have run 
away with her, could he have persuaded her into 
the measure ; but at that time ladies were not 
quite so easily run away with as Columbine ; and 
my uncle, failing in the point, took a lucky 
thought, and with great gallantry ran ofi^ with 
her picture, which he conveyed in triumph to 
Cockloft Hall, and hung up in his bed-chamber 
as a monument of his enterprising spirit. The 
old gentleman prided himself mightily on this 
chivalric maneuver ; always chuckled, and pulled 
up his stock when he contemplated the picture, 
and never related the exploit without winding up 
with — " I might, indeed, have carried off the 
original, had I chose to dangle a little longer after 
her chariot-wheels ; for, to do the girl justice, I 
believe she had a liking for me ; but I always 
scorned to coax, my boy — always — 'twas my 
way." My imcle John was of a happy temper- 
ament ; I would give half I am worth for his 
talent at self-consolation. 

The Miss Cocklofts have made several spirited 



332 SALMAGUNDI. 

attempts to introduce modern furniture into the 
Hall, but with very indifferent success. Modern 
style has always been an object of great annoy- 
ance to honest Christopher, and is ever treated 
by him with sovereign contempt, as an upstart 
intruder. It is a common observation of his, 
that your old-fashioned, substantial furniture be- 
speaks the respectability of one's ancestors, and 
indicates that the family has been used to hold 
up its head for more than the present generation ; 
whereas the fragile appendages of modern style 
seemed to be emblems of mushroom gentility, and, 
to his mind, predicted that the family dignity will 
moulder away and vanish with its transient finery. 
The same whimwham makes him averse to hav- 
ing his house surrounded with poplars ; which he 
stigmatizes as mere upstarts, just fit to ornament 
the shingle palaces of modern gentry, and char- 
acteristic of the establishments they decorate. 
Indeed, so far does he carry his veneration for 
antique trumpery, that he can scarcely see the 
dust brushed from its resting-place on the old- 
fashioned testers, or a gray-bearded spider dis- 
lodged from its ancient inheritance, without groan- 
ing : and I once saw him in a transport of passion 
on Jeremy's knocking down a mouldering martin- 
coop with his tennis-ball, which had been set up 
in the latter days of my grandfather. Another 
object of his peculiar affection is an old English 
cherry-tree, which leans against the corner of the 
Hall ; and whether the house supports it, or it 
supports the house, would be, I believe, a ques- 
tion of some difj&culty to decide. It is held sa- 



A TREE. 333 

cred by friend Christopher because he planted 
and reared it himself, and had once well-nigh 
broken his neck by a fall from one of its branches. 
This is one of his favorite stories, and there is 
reason to believe, that if the tree was out of the 
way, the old p:;entlernan would forget the whole 
affair — which would be a great pity. The old 
tree has long since ceased bearing, and is exceed- 
ingly infirm ; every tempest robs it of a limb ; and 
one would suppose from the lamentations of my 
old friend, on such occasions, that he had lost one 
of his own. He often contemplates it in a half- 
melancholy, half-moralizing humor — " together," 
he says, " have we flourished, and together shall 
we wither away ; a few years, and both our heads 
will be laid low, and, perhaps, my mouldering 
bones may, one day or other, mingle with the 
dust of the tree I have planted." He often fan- 
cies, he says, that it rejoices to see him when he 
revisits the Hall, and that its leaves assume a 
brighter verdure, as if to welcome his arrival. 
How whimsically are our tenderest feelings as- 
sailed ! At one time the old tree had obtruded 
a withered branch before Miss Baibara's window, 
and she desired her father to order the gardener 
to saw it off. I shall never forget the old 
man's answer, and the look that accompanied it. 
" What," cried he, " lop off the limbs of my 
cherry-tree in its old age? Why do you not cut 
off the gray locks of your poor old father ? " 

Do my readers yawn at this long family de- 
tail ? They are welcome to throw down our 
work, and never resume it again. I have no care 



334 SALMAGUNDI. 

for such ungratified spirits, and will not throw 
away a thought on one of them. Full often have 
I contributed to their amusement, and have not I 
a right, for once, to consult my own ? Who is 
there that does not fondly turn, at times, to linger 
round those scenes whicli were once the haunt of 
his boyhood, ere his heart grew heavy and his 
head waxed gray ; and to dwell with fond affec- 
tion on the friends who have twined themselves 
round his heart — mingled in all his enjoyments 
— contributed to all his felicities ? If there be 
any who cannot relish these enjoyments, let them 
despair ; for they have been so soiled in their in- 
tercourse with the world, as to be incapable of tast- 
ing some of the purest pleasures that survive the 
happy period of youth. 

To such as have not yet lost the rural feeling, 
I address this simple family picture ; and in the 
honest sincerity of a warm heart, I invite them to 
turn aside from bustle, care, and toil, to tarry 
with me for a season, in the hospitable mansion 
of the Cocklofts. 



[I "WAS really apprehensive, on reading the fol- 
lowing effusion of Will Wizard, that he still re- 
tained that pestilent hankering after puns of which 
we lately convicted him. He, however, declares 
that he is fully authorized by the example of the 
most popular critics and wits of the present age, 
whose manner and matter he has closely, and he 
Hatters himself successfully, copied in the sul)se- 
quent essay.] 



THEATRICALS IN DISTRESS. 335 



THEATRICAL INTELLIGENCE. 

BY WILLIAM WIZAKD, ESQ. 

THE uncommon healthiness of the season, oc- 
casioned, as several learned physicians assure 
me, by the universal prevalence of the influenza, 
nas encouraged the chieftain of our dramatic corps 
to marshal his forces, and to commence the cam- 
paign at a much earlier day than usual. He has 
been induced to take the fieUl thus suddenly, I 
am told, by the invasion of certain foreign maraud- 
ers, who pitched their tents at Vauxhall Garden 
during the warm months ; and taking advantage 
of his army being disbanded and dispersed in sum- 
mer quarters, committed sad depredations upon 
the borders of his territories, carrying off a con- 
siderable portion of his winter harvest, and mur- 
dering some of his most distinguished characters. 
It is true, these hardy invaders have been re- 
duced to great extremity by the late heavy rains, 
which injured and destroyed much of their camp 
equipage, besides spoiling the best part of their 
wardrobe. Two cities, a triumphal car, and a 
new moon for Cinderella, together with the bar- 
ber's boy who was employed every night to pow- 
der and make it shine white, have been entirely 
washed away, and the sea has become very wet 
and mouldy ; insomuch that great apprehensions 
are entertained that it will never be dry enough 
for use. Add to this, the noble County Paris had 
the misfortune to tear his corduroy breeches, in 
the sculfle with Romeo, by reason of the tomb 



336 SALMAGUNDI. 

being very wet, which occasioned him to slip ; 
and he and his noble rival possessing but one pair 
of satin ones between them, were reduced to con- 
siderable shifts to keep up the dignity of their re- 
spective houses. In spite of these disadvantages, 
aud the untoward circumstances, they contiimed to 
enact most intrepidly ; performing with much ease 
and confidence, inasmuch as they were seldom 
pestered with an audience to criticise and put them 
out of countenance. It is rumored that the last 
heavy shower absolutely dissolved the company, 
and that our manager has nothing further to ap- 
prehend from that quarter. 

The theatre opened on Wednesday last, with 
great eclat, as we critics say, and almost vied in 
brilliancy with that of my superb friend Consequa 
in Canton, where the castles were all ivory,, the sea 
mother of pearl, the skies gold and silver leaf, 
and the outside of the boxes inlaid with scollop 
shell-work. Those who want a better description 
of the theatre, may as well go and see it, and then 
they can judge for themselves. For the gratifica- 
tion of a highly respectable class of readers, who 
love to see everything on paper, I had indeed pre- 
pared a circumstantial and truly incomprehensible 
account of it, such as your traveller always fills 
his book with, and which I defy the most intelli- 
gent architect, even the great Sir Christopher 
Wren to understand. I had jumbled cornices, 
and pilasters, and pillars, and capitals, and tri- 
glyphs, and modules, and plinths, and volutes, and 
perspectives, and fore-shortenings, helter-skelter ; 
and had set all the orders of architecture, Doric, 



SUPERNUMERARIES. 337 

Ionic, Corinthian, etc., together by the ears, in or- 
der to work out a satisfactory description ; but 
the manager having sent me a polite note re- 
questing that I would not take off the sharp edge, 
as he whimsically expressed it, of public curiosity, 
thereby diminishing the receipts of his house, I 
have willingly consented to oblige him, and have 
left my description at the store of our publisher, 
where any person may see it — provided he ap- 
plies at a proper hour. 

I cannot refrain here from giving vent to the 
satisfaction I received from the excellent perfor- 
mances of the different actors, one and all ; and 
particularly the gentlemen who shifted the scenes, 
who acquitted themselves throughout with great 
celerity, dignity, pathos, and effect. Nor must I 
pass over the peculiar merits of my friend John, 
who gallanted off the chairs and tables in the most 
dignified and circumspect manner. Indeed, I have 
had frequent occasion to applaud the correctness 
with which this gentleman fulfills the parts allotted 
him, and consider him as one of the best general 
performers in the company. My friend, the cock- 
ney, found considerable fault with the manner in 
which John shoved a huse rock from behind the 
scenes ; maintaining that he should have put his 
left foot forward, and pushed it with his right 
hand, that being the method practiced by his con- 
temporaries of the royal theatres, and universally 
approved by their best critics. He also took ex- 
ception to John's coat, which he pronounced too 
short by a foot at least, particularly when he 
turned his back to the company. But I look 
22 



338 SALMAGUNDI. 

upon these objections in the same light as new 
readings, and insist that John shall be allowed to 
maneuver his chairs and tables, shove his rocks, 
and wear his skirts in that style which his genius 
best affects. My hopes in the rising merits of 
this favorite actor daily increase ; and I would 
hint to the manager the propriety of giving him 
a benefit, advertising in the usual style of play- 
bills, as a "" springe to catch woodcocks," that be- 
tween the play and farce, John will make a bow 
— for that night only ! 

I am told that no pains have been spared to 
make the exhibitions of this season as splendid as 
possible. Several expert rat-catchers have been 
sent into different parts of the country to catch 
white mice for the grand pantomime of " Cinder- 
ella." A nest full of little squab Cupids have 
been taken in the neighborhood of Communipaw ; 
they are as yet but half fiedged, of the true Hol- 
land breed, and it is hoped will be able to fly 
about by the middle of October ; otherwise they 
will be suspended about the stage by the waist- 
band, like little alligators in an apothecary's shop, 
as the pantomime must positively be performed by 
that time. Great pains and expense have been 
incurred in the importation of one of the most 
portly pumpkins in New England ; and the pub- 
lic may be assured there is now one on board 
a vessel from New Haven, which will contain 
Cinderella's coach and six with perfect ease, were 
the white mice even ten times as large. 

Also several barrels of hail, rain, brimstone, 
and gunpowder, are in store for melodramas, of 



FURTHER IMPROVEMENT'S. 339 

which a number are to be phiyed off thia winter, 
It is furthermore wliispereil me that the great 
thunder drum has been new braced, and an ex- 
pert performer on ti»at instrument engaged, who 
will thunder in plain English, so as to be under- 
stood by the most illiterate hearer. This will be 
infinitely preferable to tlie miserable Italian ihun- 
derer, employed last winter by Mr. Ciceri, who 
performed in such an unnatural and outlandish 
tongue, that none but the scholars of Signor Da 
Ponte could understand him. It will be a fur- 
ther gratification to the patriotic audience to know 
that the present thunderer is a fellow-countryman, 
born at Dunderberg, among the echoes of the 
Highlands, and that he thunders with peculiar 
emphasis and pompous enunciation, in the true 
style of a Fourth of July orator. 

In addition to all these additions, the manaser 
has provided an entire new snow-storm, the very 
sight of which will be quite sufficient to draw a 
shawl over every naked bosom in the theatre ; 
the snow is perfectly fresh, having been manufac- 
tured last August. 

N.B. The outside of the theatre has been or 
namented with a new chimney I ! 



NO. XV.— THURSDAY, OCTOBER 1, 1807. 



SKETCHES FROM NATURE. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 




HE brisk northwesters, which prevailed 
not long since, had a powerful effect in 
arresting the progress of belles, beaux, 
and wild pigeons in their fashionable northern 
tour, and turning them back to the more balmy 
region of the south. Among the rest, I was en- 
countered, full butt, by a blast which set my 
teeth chattering, just as I doubled one of the 
frownmg bluffs of the Mohawk Mountains, in 
my route to Niagara, and facing about inconti- 
nently, I forthwith scud befoi-e the wind, and a 
few days since arrived at* my old quarters in New 
York. My first care, on returning from so long 
an absence, was to visit the worthy family of the 
Cocklofts, whom I found safe burrowed in their 
country mansion. On inquiring for my highly 
respected coadjutor, Laiigstaff, I learned, with 
great concern, that he had relapsed into one of 
his eccentric fits of the spleen, ever since the era 
of a turtle dinner given by old Cockloft to some 
of the neighboring squires, wherein the old gen- 
tleman had achieved a glorious victory in laying 
honest Launcelot fairly under the table. Lang- 



A FIT OF THE SPLEEN. 341 

Staff, although fond of the social board and cheerful 
glass, yet abominates any excess, and has an in- 
vincible aversion to getting mellow, considering 
it a willful outrage on the sanctity of the imperial 
mind, a senseless abuse of the body, and an un- 
pardonable, because a voluntary, prostration of both 
mental and personal dignity. I have heard him 
moralize on the subject, in a style that would do 
honor to Michael Cassio himself; but I believe, 
if the truth were known, this antipathy rather 
rises from his having, as the phrase is, but a weak 
head, and nerves so extremely sensitive, that he is 
sure to suffer severely from a frolic, and will 
groan and make resolutions against it for a week 
afterward. He therefore took this waocs^ish ex- 
ploit of old Christopher's, and the consequent 
quizzing which he underwent, in high dudgeon ; 
had kept aloof from company for a fortnight, and 
appeared to be meditating some deep plan of re- 
taliation upon his mischievous old crony. He 
had, however, for the last day or two, shown some 
symptoms of convalescence : had listened, with- 
out more than half a dozen twitches of impa- 
tience, to one of Christopher's unconscionable 
long stories, and even was seen to smile, for the 
one hundred and thirtieth time, at a venerable 
joke originally borrowed from Joe Miller, but 
which, by dint of .long occupancy, and frequent 
repetition, the old gentleman now firmly believes 
happened to himself somewhere in New England. 
As I am well acquainted with Launcelot's 
haunts, I soon found him out. He was lolling 
on his favorite bench, rudely constructed at the 



342 SALMAGUNDI. 

foot of an old tree, which is full of fantastical 
twists, and with its spreading branches forms a 
canopy of luxuriant foliage. This tree is a 
kind of chronicle of the short reigns of his 
uncle John's mistresses ; and its trunk is sorely 
wounded with carviugs of true lovers' knots, 
hearts, darts, names, and inscriptions ! — frail 
memorials of the variety of the fair dames who 
captivated the wandering fancy of that old 
cavalier in the days of his youthful romance. 
Launcelot holds this tree in particular regard, as 
he does everything else connected with the mem- 
ory of his good uncle John. He was reclining, in 
one of his usual brown studies, against its trunk, 
and gazing pensively upon the river that glided 
just by, washing the drooping branches of the 
dwarf willows that fiinged its bank. My ap- 
pearance roused him ; he grasped my hand with 
his usual warmth, and with a tremulous l)ut close 
pressure, which spoke that his heart entered into 
the salutation. After a number of affectionate 
inquiries and felicitations, such as friendship, not 
form, dictated, he seemed to relapse into his for- 
mer flow of thought, and to resume the chain of 
ideas my appearance had broken for a moment. 

" I was reflecting," said he, " my dear Anthony, 
upon some observations I made in our last num- 
ber : and considering whether the sight of objects 
once dear to the affections, or of scenes where 
we have passed different happy periods of early 
life, really occasions most enjoyment or most re- 
gret. Renewing onr acquaintance with well- 
known and long separated objects, revives, it is 



SENTIMENTAL. 343 

true, the recollection of former pleasures, and 
touches the tenderest feelings of the heart; as 
the flavor of a delicious beverage will remain 
upon the palate long after the cup has parted 
from the lips. But on the other hand, my friend, 
these same objects are too apt to awaken us to a 
keener recollection of what we were, when they 
once delighted us ; and to provoke a mortifying 
and melancholy contrast with what we are at 
present. They act, in a manner, as milestones 
of existence, showing us how far we have trav- 
elled in the journey of life — how much of our 
weary but fascinating pilgrimage is accomplished. 
I look round me, and my eye fondly recognizes 
the fields I once sported over, the river in which 
I once swam, and the orchard I intrepidly robbed 
in the halcyon days of boyhood. The fields are 
still green, the river still rolls unaltered and un- 
diminished, and the orchard is still flourishing 
and fruitful ; — it is I only am changed. The 
thoughtless flow of madcap spirits that nothing 
could depress, the elasticity of nerve that enabled 
me to bound over the field, to stem the stream and 
climb the tree — the ' sunshine of the breast ' 
that beamed an illusive charm over every object, 
and created a paradise around me — where are 
they ? — the thievish lapse of years has stolen 
them away, and left in return nothing but gray 
hairs, and a repining spirit." My friend Launce- 
lot concluded his harangue with a sigh, and as I 
saw he was still under the influence of a whole 
legion of the blues, and just on the point of sinking 
into one of his whimsical and unreasonable fits 



344 SALMAGUNDI. 

of melancholy abstraction, I proposed a walk. 
He consented, and slipping his left arm in mine, 
and waving in the other a gold-headed thorn cane, 
bequeathed him by his uncle John, we slowly 
rambled along the margin of the river. 

Langstaff, though possessing great vivacity of 
temper, is most wofully subject to these " thick 
cominsr fancies ; " and I do not know a man 
whose animal spirits do insult him with more 
jil tings, and coquetries, and slippery tricks. In 
these moods he is often visited by a whimwham 
which he indulges in common with the Cocklofts. 
It is that of looking back with regret, conjuring 
up the phantoms of good old times, and decking 
them out in imaginary finery, with the spoils of 
his fancy ; like a good lady widow, regretting the 
loss of the " poor dear man ; " for whom, while 
living, she cared not a rush. I have seen him 
and Pindar, and old Cockloft, amuse themselves 
over a bottle with their youthful days, until by 
the time they had become what is termed merry, 
they were the most miserable beings in existence. 
In a similar humor was Lnuncelot at present, and 
I knew the only way was to let him moralize 
himself out of it. 

Our ramble was soon interrupted by the ap- 
pearance of a personage of no little importance 
at Cockloft Hall — for, to let my readers into a 
family secret, friend Christopher is notoriously 
henpecked by an old negro, who has whitened on 
the place ; and is his master, almanac, and coun- 
selor. My readers, if haply tliey have sojourned 
in the country and become conversant in rural 



OLD C^SAR. 345 

manners, must have observed that there is scarce 
a little hamlet but has one of these old, weather- 
beaten wiseacres of negroes, who ranks among the 
great characters of the place. He is always 
resorted to as an oracle to resolve any question 
about the weather, fishing, shooting, farming, and 
horse-doctoring ; and on such occasions will 
slouch his remnant of a hat on one side, fold 
his arms, roll his white eyes, and examine the sky, 
with a look as knowing as Peter Pindar's magpie 
when peeping into a marrow-bone. Such a sage 
curmudgeon is old C?esar, who acts as friend 
Cockloft's prime master or grand vizier; assumes, 
when abroad, his master's style and title ; to Avit, 
Squire Cockloft ; and is, in effect, absolute lord 
and ruler of the soil. 

As he passed us, he pulled off his hat with an 
air of something more than respect ; it partook, I 
thought, of affection. " There, now, is another 
memento of the kind I have been noticing," said 
Launcelot ; " Caesar Avas a bosom friend and 
chosen playmate of Cousin Pindar and myself, 
when we were boys. Never were we so happy as 
when, stealing away on a holiday to the Hall, we 
ranged about the fields with honest Ciesar. He 
was particularly adroit in making our quail-traps 
and fishing-rods ; was always the ringleader in 
all the schemes of frolicsome mischief perpetrated 
by the urchins of the neighborliood ; considered 
himself on an equality with tlie best of us ; and 
many a hard battle have I had with him, about 
the division of the spoils of an orchard, or the 
title to a bird's nest. Many a summer evening 



346 SALMAGUNDL 

do I remember when, huddled together on the 
steps of the Hall door, Csesar, with his stories of 
giiosts, goblins, and witches, would put us all in 
a panic, and people every lane, and church-yard, 
and solitary wood, with imaginary beings. In 
process of time, he became the constant attend- 
ant and Man Friday of Cousin Pindar, whenever 
he went a sparking among the rosy country girls 
of ihe neighboring farms ; and brought up his rear 
at every rustic dance, when he would mingle in 
the sable group that always thronged the door of 
merriment ; and it was enough to put to the rout 
a host of splenetic imps to see his mouth gradu- 
ally dilate from ear to ear, with pride and exulta- 
tion, at seeing how neatly Master Pindar footed it 
over the floor. Caesar was likewise the chosen con- 
fidant and special agent of Pindar in all his love 
affairs, until, as his evil stars would have it, on 
being intrusted with the delivery of a poetic 
billet-doux to one of his patron's sweethearts, he 
took an unlucky notion to send it to his own sable 
dulcinea, who, not being able to read it, took it to 
her mistress ; and so the whole affair was blown. 
Pindar was universally roasted, and Cffisar dis- 
charged forever from his confidence. 

" Poor Ccesar ! — he has now grown old, like 
his young masters, but he still remembers old 
times ; and will, now and then, remind me of 
them as he lights me to my room, and lingers a 
little while to bid me a good-night. Believe me, 
my dear Evergreen, the honest, simple old crea- 
ture has a warm corner in my heart ; I don't 
see, for my part, why a body may not like a negro 
as well a>i a white man ! " 



THE STABLE. 347 

By the time these biograpliical anecdotes were 
ended we had reached the stable, into which we 
had involuntarily strolled, and found Ca3sar busily 
employed in rubbing down the horses ; an office 
he would not intrust to anybody else, having con- 
tracted an affection for eveiy beast in the stable, 
from their beingr descendants of the old race of 
animals, his youthful contemporaries. Cassar was 
very particular in giving us their pedigrees, to- 
gether with a panegyric on the swiftness, bottom, 
blood, and spirit of their sires. From these he 
digressed into a variety of anecdotes in which 
Launcelot bore a conspicuous part, and on which 
the old negro dwelt with all the garrulity of age. 
Honest Langstaff stood leaiiing with his arm over 
the back of his favorite steed, old Killdeer ; and 
I could perceive he listened to Ciiesar's simple 
details with that fond attention with which a 
feeling mind will hang over narratives of boyish 
days. His eye sparkled with animation, a glow 
of youthful fire stole across his pale visage ; he 
nodded with smiling approbation at every sen- 
tence ; chuckled at every exploit ; lauglied heartily 
at the story of his once having smoked out a 
country singing-school with brimstone and assa- 
fcEtida ; and slipping a piece of money into old 
Caesar's hand to buy himself a new tobacco-box, 
he seized me by the arm and hurried out of the 
stable, brimful of good nature. '' 'Tis a pestilent 
old rogue for talking, my dear fellow," cried he, 
"but you must not find fault with him — the 
creature means well." I knew, at the very mo- 
ment that he made this apology, honest Caesar 



348 SALMAGUNDI. 

could not have given him half the satisfaction, had 
he talked like a Cicero or a Solomon. 

Launcelot returned to the house with me/in the 
best possible humor — the whole family, who in 
truth love and honor him from their very souls, 
were delighted to see the sunbeams once more 
play in his countenance. Every one seemed to 
vie who should talk tlie most, tell the longest 
stories, and be most agreeable ; and Will Wizard, 
who had accompanied me in my visit, declared, 
as he lighted his cigar — which had gone out 
forty times in the course of one of his oriental 
tales — that he had not passed so pleasant an 
evening since the birthnight ball of the beauteous 
empress of Hayti. 



[The following essay was written by my 
friend LangstaiF, in one of the paroxysms of hia 
splenetic complaint ; and, for aught I know, may 
have been effectual in restoring him to good 
humor. A mental discharge of the kind has a 
remarkable tendency toward sweetening the tem- 
per — and Launcelot is, at this moment, one of 
the best-natured men in existence. 

A. EVERGREEN.J 



GREATNESS, 349 

ON GREATNESS. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

WE have more than once, in the course of 
our work, been most jocosely familiar with 
great personages ; and, in truth, treated them 
witli as little ceremony, respect, and consideration, 
as if they had been our most particular friends. 
Now, we would not suffer the mortification of 
having our readers even suspect us of any inti- 
macy of the kind ; assuring them we are ex- 
tremely choice in our intimates and uncommonly 
circumspect in avoiding connections with all 
doubtful characters ; particularly pimps, bailiffs, 
lottery-brokers, chevaliers of iudustry, and great 
men. The world, in general, is pretty well 
aware of what is to be understood by the former 
classes of delinquents ; but as the latter has 
never, I believe, been specifically defined, and as 
we are determined to instruct our readers to the 
extent of our abilities, and tiieir limited compre- 
hension, it may not be amiss here to let them 
know what we understand by a great man. 

First, therefore, let us — editors and kings are 
always plural — premise, that there are two kinds 
of greatness : one conferred by heaven — the 
exalted nobility of the soul — the other, a spuri- 
ous distinction, engendered by the mob and 
lavished upon its favorites. The former of these 
distinctions we have already contemplated with 
reverence ; the latter, we will take this opportu- 
nity to strip naked before our unenlightened 



350 SALMAGUNDI. 

readers ; so that, if by chance any of them are 
held in ignominious thralldora by this base circuhi- 
tion of false coin, they may forthwith emancipate 
themselves from such inglorious delusion. 

It is a fictitious value given to individuals by 
public caprice, as bankers give an impi-ession to a 
worthless slip of paper; thereby gaining it a 
currency for infinitely more than its intrinsic 
value. Every nation has its peculiar coin, and 
peculiar great men ; neither of which will, for the 
most part, pass current out of the country where 
they are stamped. Your true mob-created great 
man, is like a note of one of the little New Eng- 
land banks, and his value depreciates in pro- 
portion to the distance from home. In England, 
a great man is he who has most ribbons and 
gewgaws on his coat, most liorses to his carriage, 
most slaves in his retinue, or most toad-eaters at 
his table ; in France, he who can most dextrously 
flourish his heels above his head — Duport is 
most incontestably the greatest man in France ! — 
when the Emperor is absent. The greatest man 
in China, is he who can trace his ancestry up to 
the moon ; and in this country, our great men 
may generally hunt down their pedigree until it 
burrow in the dirt like a rabbit. To be concise : 
our great men are those who are most expert at 
crawling on all foui's, and have the happiest fa- 
cility of dragging and winding themselves along 
in the dirt. This may seem a paradox to many 
of my readers, who, with great good nature be it 
hinted, are too stupid to look beyond the mere 
surface of our invaluable writings ; and often pass 



A GREAT MAN. 351 

over the knowing allusions, and poio^nant mean- 
ing, that is slily couching beneath. It is for the 
benefit of such helpless ignorants, who have no 
other creed ^ but the opinion of the mob, that I 
shall trace, as far as it is possible to follow him in 
his progress from insignificance — the rise, pro- 
gress, and completion of a little great man. 

In a logocracy, to use the sage Mustapha's 
phrase, it is not absolutely necessary to the forma- 
tion of a great man that he should be either wise 
or valiant, upright or honorable. On the con- 
trary, daily experience shows, that these qualities 
rather impede his preferment; inasmuch as they 
are prone to render him too inflexibly erect, and 
directly at variance with that willow suppleness 
which enables a man to wind and twist through 
all the nooks and turns and dark winding passages 
that lead to greatness. The grand requisite for 
climbing the rugged hill of popularity — the 
summit of which is the seat of power — is to be 
useful. And here, once more, tor the sake of 
our readers, wiio are, of course, not so wise as 
ourselves, I must explain what we understand by 
usefulness. The horse, in his native state, is 
wild, swift, impetuous, full of majesty, and of a 
most generous spirit. It is then the animal is 
noble, exalted, and useless. But entrap him, 
manacle him, cudgel him, break down his lofty 
spirit, put the curb into his mouth, the load upon 
his back, and reduce him into servile obedience 
to the bridle and the lash, and it is then he 
becomes useful. Your jackass is one of the most 
useful animals in existence. If my readers do 



352 SALMAGUNDI. 

not now understand what I mean by usefulness. 
I give them all up for most absolute nincoms. 

To rise in this country a man must first 
descend. The aspiring politician may be com- 
pared to that indefatigable insect, called the 
tumbler, pronounced by a distinguished personage 
to be the only industrious animal in Virginia, 
which buries itself in filth, and works ignobly 
in the dirt, until it forms a little ball, which it 
rolls laboriously along, like Diogenes in his tub ; 
sometimes head, sometimes tail foremost, pilfering 
from every rut and mud hole, and increasing its 
ball of greatness by the contributions of the 
kennel. Just so the candidate for greatness ; — 
he buries himself in the mob ; labors in dirt and 
oblivion, and makes unto himself the rudiments 
of a popular name from the admiration and 
praises of rogues, ignoramnises, and blackguards. 
His name once started, onward he goes, struggling 
and puffing, and pushing it before him ; collecting 
new tribute from the dregs and offals of society 
as he proceeds, until having gathered together a 
mighty mass of popularity, he mounts it in 
triumph ; is hoisted into oiSice, and becomes a 
great man, and a ruler in the land. All this will 
be clearly illustrated by a sketch of a worthy of 
the kind, who sprung up under my eye, and was 
hatched from the dirt by the broad rays of 
popularity, which, like the sun, can " breed mag- 
gots in a dead dog." 

Timothy Dabble was a young man of very 
promising talents ; for he wrote a fair hand, and 
had thrice won the silver medal at a country 



TIMOTHY DABBLE. 353 

academy ; he was also an orator, for he talked 
with emphatic volubility, and could argue a full 
hour, without taking either side, or advancing a 
single opinion ; he had still further requisites for 
eloquence, for he made very handsome gestures, 
had dimples in his cheeks when he smiled, and 
enunciated most harmoniously through his nose. 
In short, nature had certainly marked him out 
for a great man ; for though he was not tall, yet 
he added at least half an inch to his stature by 
elevating his head, and assumed an amazing ex- 
pression of dignity by turning up his nose and 
curling his nostrils, in a style of conscious supe- 
riority. Convinced by these unequivocal appear- 
ances, Babble's friends, in full caucus, one and 
all, declared that he was undoubtedly born to be 
a great man, and it would be his own fault if he 
were not one. Dabble was tickled with an 
opinion which coincided so happily with his own — 
for vanity, in a contidentiul whisper, had given 
him the like intimation — and he reverenced the 
judgment of his friends because they thought so 
highly of himself. Accordingly he set out with 
a determination to become a great man, and to 
start in the scrub-race for honor and renown. 
How to attain the desired prize was however, the 
question. He knew, by a kind of instinctive 
feeling, which seems peculiar to groveling minds, 
that honor, and its better part — profit, would 
never seek him out ; that they would never knock 
at his door and crave admittance, but must be 
courted, and toiled after, and earned. He there- 
fore strutted forth into the highways, and market- 
23 



354 SALMAGUNDI. 

places, and the assemblies of the people ; ranted, 
like a true cockerel orator, about virtue, and 
patriotism, and liberty, and equality, and himself. 
Full many a political windmill did he battle 
with ; and full many a time did he talk himself 
out of breath and his hearers out of patience. 
But Dabble found, to his vast astonishment, that 
there was not a notorious political pimp at a ward 
meeting but could out-talk him ; and what was 
still more mortifying, there was not a notorious 
political pimp but was more noticed and caressed 
than himself. The reason was simple enough ; 
while he harangued about principles, the others 
ranted about men ; where he reprobated a politi- 
cal error, they blasted a political character. 
They were, consequently, the most useful ; for 
the great object of our political disputes is not 
who shall have the honor of emancipating the 
community from the leading-strings of delusion, 
but who shall have the profit of holding the 
strings and leading the community by the nose. 
Dabble was likewise very loud in his profes- 
sions of integrity, incorruptibility, and disinterest- 
edness ; words which, from being filtered and 
refined through newspapers and election hand- 
bills, have lost their original signification, and in 
the political dictionary are synonymous with 
empty pockets, itching palms, and interested am- 
bition. He, in addition to all this, declared that 
he would support none but honest men ; but un- 
luckily, as but few of these offered themselves to 
be supported, Dabble's services were seldom re- 
quired. He pledged himself never to engage iu 



POLITICAL APPRENTICESHIP. 355 

party schemes, or party politics, but to stand up 
solely for the broad interests of his country — so 
he stood alone ; and what is the same thing, he 
stood still ; for, in this country, he who does not 
side with either party is like a body in a vacuum 
between two planets, and must forever remain 
motionless. 

Dabble was immeasurably surprised that a 
man so honest, so disinterested, and so sagacious 
withal, and one, too, who had the good of his 
country so much at heart, should thus remain 
unnoticed and unapplauded. A little worldly 
advice, whispered in his ear by a shrewd old 
politician, at once explained the whole mystery. 
" He who would become great," said he, " must 
serve an apprenticeship to greatness, and rise by 
regular gradation, like the master of a vessel, 
who commences by being scrub and cabin-boy. 
He must fag in the train of great men, echo all 
their sentiments, become their toad-eater and 
parasite — laugh at all their jokes, and, above all, 
endeavor to make them laugh ; if you only make 
a great man laugh now and then, your fortune is 
made. Look about you, youngster, and you will 
not see a single little great man of the day, but 
his herd of retainers, who yelp at his heels, come 
at his whistle, worry whoever he points at, and 
think themselves fully rewarded by sometimes 
snapping up a crumb that falls from his table. 
Talk of patriotism, and virtue, and incorruptibil- 
ity ! — tut, man ! they are the very qualities that 
scare munificence, and keep patronage at a dis- 
tance. You might as well attempt to entice 



356 SALMAGUNDI 

crowds with red rags and gunpowder. Lay all 
these scarecrow virtues aside, and let this be your 
maxim, that a candidate for political eminence is 
like a dried herring ; he never becomes luminous 
until he is corrupt." 

Dabble caught with hungry avidity these con- 
genial doctrines, and turned into his predestined 
channel of action with the force and rapidity of 
a stream wliich has for a Avhile been restrained 
from its natural course. He became what nature 
had fitted hitn to be : his tone softened down 
from arrogant self-sufficiency to the whine of 
fawning solicitation. He mingled in the caucuses 
of the sovereign people ; assumed a patriotic 
slovenliness of dress ; argued most logically with 
those who were of his own opinion ; and slan- 
dered, with all the malice of impotence, exalted 
characters whose orbit he despaired ever to ap- 
proach — just as that scoundrel midnight thief, 
the owl, hoots at the blessed light of the sun, 
whose glorious lustre he dares never contemplate. 
He likewise applied himself to discharging, faith- 
fully, the honorable duties of a partisan ; he 
poached about for private slanders and ribald 
anecdotes ; he folded handbills ; he even wrote 
one or two himself, which he carried about in his 
pocket and read to everybody ; he became secre- 
tary at ward meetings, set his hand to divers 
resolutions of patriotic import, and even once 
went so far as to make a speech, in which he 
proved that patriotism was a virtue — that the 
reigning bashaw was a great man — that this 
was a free country, and he himself an arrant and 
incontestible buzzard ! 



PATRIOTISM AND PORTER. 357 

Dabble was now very frequent and devout in 
his visits to tliose temples of politics, popularity, 
and smoke — the ward porter-houses ; those true 
dens of equality, where all ranks, ages, and tal- 
ents are brought down to the level of rude famil- 
iarity. 'Twas here his talents expanded, and his 
genius swelled up to its proper size — like the 
toad, which, shrinking from balmy airs and jocund 
sunshine, finds his congenial home in caves and 
dungeons, and there nourishes his veuom and 
bloats his deformity. 'Twas here lie reveled with 
the swinish multitude in their debauches on patri- 
otism and porter ; and it became an even chance 
whether Dabble would turn out a great man or a 
great drunkard. But Dabble in all this kept 
steadily in his eye the only deity he ever wor- 
shipped — his interest. Having, by this familiar- 
ity, ingratiated himself with the mob, he became 
wonderfully potent and industrious at elections — 
knew all the dens and cellars of profligacy and 
intemperance — brought more negroes to the polls, 
and knew to a greater certainty where votes could 
be bought for beer, than any of his contempora- 
ries. His exertions in the cause, his persevering 
industry, his degrading compliance, his unresist- 
ing humility, his steadfast dependence, at length 
caught the attention of one of the leaders of the 
party, who was pleased to observe that Dabble 
was a very useful fellow, who would go all 
lengths. F'rora that moment his fortune was 
made — he was hand and glove with orators and 
slang-whangers ; basked in the sunshine of great 
men's smiles, and had the honor, sundry times, of 



358 SALMAGUNDI. 

shaking hands with dignitaries during elections, 
and drinking out of the same pot with them at a 
porter-house ! ! 

I will not fatigue myself with tracing this 
caterpillar in his slimy progress from worm to 
butterfly : suffice it that Dabble bowed and 
bowed, and fawned, and sneaked, and smirked, 
and libeled, until one would have thought perse- 
verance itself would have settled down into de- 
spair. There was no knowing how long he 
might have lingered at a distance from his hopes, 
had he not luckily got tarred and feathered for 
some electioneering maneuver. This was the 
making of him ! Let not my readers stare ; tar- 
ring and feathering here is equal to pillory and 
cropped ears in England ; and either of these 
kinds of martyrdom will insure a patriot the 
sympathy and support of iiis faction. His parti- 
sans — for even he had his partisans — took his 
case into consideration. He had been kicked, 
and cuffed, and disgraced, and dishonored in the 
cause ; he had licked the dust at the feet of the 
mob ; he was a faithful drudge, slow to anger, of 
invincible patience, of incessant assiduity ; a 
thorough-going tool, who could be curbed, and 
spurred, and directed at pleasure — in short, he 
had all the important qualifications for a little 
great roan, and he was accordingly ushered into 
office amid the acclamations of the party. The 
leading men complimented his usefulness, the 
multitude his republican simplicity, and the 
slang-whangers vouched for his patriotism. Since 
his elevation, he has discovered indubitable signs 



DABBLE A GREAT MAN, 



359 



of having been destined for a great man. His 
nose has acquired an additional elevation of sev- 
eral degrees, so that now he appears to have 
bidden adieu to this world, and to have set his 
thoughts altogether on things above ; and he has 
swelled and inflated himself to such a degree 
that his friends are under apprehensions that he 
will, one day or other, explode and blow up like 
a torpedo. 





NO. XVL— THURSDAY, OCTOBER 15, 

1807. 

STYLE, AT BALLSTON. 

BY WILLIAM WIZARD, ESQ. 

OTWITHSTANDTNG Evergreen has 
never been abroad, nor had his under- 
standing enlightened, or his views en- 
larged by that marvelous sharpener of the wits, 
a salt water voyage, yet he is tolerably shrewd 
and correct, in the limited sphere of his observa- 
tions ; and now and then astounds me with a 
right pithy remark, which would do no discredit 
even to a man who had made the grand tour. 

In several late conversations at Cockloft Hall, 
he has amused us exceedingly by detailing sundry- 
particulars concerning that notorious slaughter- 
house of time, Ballston Springs, where he spent 
a considerable part of the last summer. The 
following is a summary of his observations. 

Pleasure has passed through a variety of sig- 
nifications at Ballston. It originally meant noth- 
ing more than a relief from pain and sickness ; 
and the patient who had journeyed many a weary 
mile to the Springs, with a heavy heart and 
emaciated form, called it pleasure when he threw 



BALLS TON. 361 

by his crutches, and danced away from them with 
renovated spirits, and limbs jocund with vigor 
In process of time, pleasure underwent a refine- 
ment, and appeared in the likeness of a sober, 
unceremonious country dance, to the flute of an 
amateur or the three-stringed fiddle of an itiner- 
ant country musician. Still everything bespoke 
that happy holiday which the spirits ever enjoy, 
when emancipated from the shackles of formality, 
ceremony, and modern politeness ; things went 
on cheerily, and Ballston was pronounced a 
charming, humdrum, careless place of resort, 
where every one was at his ease, and might fol- 
low unmolested the bent of his humor — provided 
his wife was not there ; when, lo ! all on a sud- 
den, Style made its baneful appearance in the 
semblance of a gig and tandem, a pair of leather 
breeches, a liveried footman, and a cockney ! 
Since that fatal era pleasure has taken an entire 
new signification, and at present means nothing 

but STYLE. 

The worthy, fashionable, dashing, good-for- 
nothing people of every state, who had rather 
suffer the martyrdom of a crowd than endure the 
monotony of their own homes, and the stupid 
company of t*heir own thoughts, flock to the 
Springs; not to enjoy the pleasures of society, or 
benefit by the qualities of the waters, but to ex- 
hibit their equipages and wardrobes, and to excite 
the admiration, or, what is much more satisfac- 
tory, the envy of their fashionable competitors. 
This, of course, awakens a spirit of noble emula- 
tion between the eastern, middle, and southern 



362 SALMAGUNDI 

States ; and every lady hereupon finding herself 
charged in a manner with the whole weight of 
her country's dignity and style, dresses and dashes, 
and sparkles, without mercy, at her competitors 
from other parts of the Union. This kind of 
rivalship naturally requires a vast deal of prepa- 
ration and prodigious quantities of supplies. A 
sober citizen's wife will break half a dozen milli- 
ners' shops, and sometimes starve her family a 
whole season, to enable herself to make the Springs 
campaign in style. She repairs to the seat of 
war with a mighty force of trunks and band- 
boxes, like so many ammunition chests, filled 
with caps, hats, gowns, ribbons, shawls, and all 
the various artillery of fashionable warfare. The 
lady of a Southern planter will lay out the whole 
annual produce of a rice plantation in silver and 
gold muslins, lace veils, and new liveries ; carry 
a hogshead of tobacco on her head, and trail a 
bale of sea-island cotton at her heels ; while a 
lady of Boston or Salem will wrap herself up in 
the net proceeds of a cargo of whale oil, and tie 
on her hat with a quintal of codfish. 

The planters' ladies, however, have generally 
the advantage in this contest ; for, as it is an 
incontestable fact, that whoever comes from the 
West or East Indies, or Georgia, or the Caro- 
linas, or in fact any warm climate, is immensely 
rich, it cannot be expected that a simple cit of 
the North can cope with them in style. The 
planter, therefore, who drives four horses abroad, 
and a thousand nesfroes at home, and who flour- 
ishes up to the Springs, followed by half a score 



A SEASON AT THE SPRINGS. 363 

of black-a-raoors, in gorgeous liveries, is unques- 
tionably superior to the northern merchant, who 
plods on in a carriage and pair ; which, being 
nothing more than is quite necessary, has no claim 
whatever to style. He, however, has his conso- 
lation in feeling superior to thejjionest cit, who 
dashes about in a simple gig ; he, in return, sneers 
at the country squire, who jogs along with his 
scrubby, long-eared pony and saddlebags ; and 
the squire, by way of taking satisfaction, would 
make no scruple to run over the unobtrusive pe- 
destrian, were it not that the last, being the most 
independent of the whole, might chance to break 
his head by way of retort. 

The great misfortune is, that this style is sup- 
ported at such an expense as sometimes to en- 
croach on the rights and privileges of the pocket ; 
and occasions very awkward embarrassments to 
the tyro of fashion. Among a number of in- 
stances, Evergreen mentions the fate of a dashing 
blade from the South, wiio made his entree with 
a tandem and two outriders, by the aid of which 
he attracted the attention of all the ladies, and 
caused a coolness between several young couples 
who, it was thought before his arrival, had a con- 
siderable kindness for each other. In the course 
of a fortnight his tandem disappeared ! — the 
class of good folk who seem to have nothing to 
do in this world but pry into other people's affairs, 
began to stare. In a little time longer an out- 
rider was missing ! — this increased the alarm, 
and it was consequently whispered that he had 
eaten the horses and drank the negro. N. B. 



364 SALMAGUNDI. 

Southern gentlemen are very apt to do this on 
an emergency. Serious apprehensions were en- 
tertained about the fate of the remaining servant, 
which were soon verified by his actually vanish- 
ing ; and in " one little month " the dashing Caro- 
linian modes tlj|» took his departure in the stage- 
coacli ! — universally regretted by the friends who 
had generously released him from his cumbrous 
load of style. 

Evergreen, in the course of his detail, gave 
very melancholy accounts of an alarming famine 
which raged with great violence at the Springs. 
Whether this was owing to the incredible ap- 
petites of the company, or the scarcity which 
prevailed at the inns, he did not seem inclined 
to say; but he declares, that he was for sev- 
eral days in imminent danger of starvation, owing 
to his being a little too dilatory in his attend- 
ance at the dinner-table. He relates a number 
of '' moving accidents," which befell many of the 
polite company in their zeal to get a good seat at 
dinner; on which occasion a kind of scrub-race 
always took place, wherein a vast deal of jockey- 
ing and unfair play was shown, and a variety of 
squabbles and unseemly altercations occurred. 
But when arrived at the scene of action, it was 
truly an awful sight to behold the confusion, and 
to hear the tumultuous uproar of voices crying 
some for one thing, and some for another, to the 
tuneful accompaniment of knives and forks, rat- 
tling with all the energy of hungry impatience. 
The feast of the Centaurs and the Lapithge was 
nothing when compared with a dinner at the great 



DINNER FEATS. 365 

house. At one time, an old gentleman, whose 
natural irascibility was a little sharpened by the 
gout, had scalded his throat, by gobbling down a 
bowl ot' hot soup in a vast hurry, in order to se- 
cure the first fruits of a roasted partridge before 
it was snapped up by some hungry rival ; when 
just, as he was whetting his knife and fork, pre- 
paratory for a descent on the promised land, he 
had the mortification to see it transferred, bodily, 
to the phite of a squeamish little damsel who was 
taking the waters for debility and loss of appe- 
tite. This was too much for the patience of old 
Crusty ; he lodged his fork into the partridge, 
whipt it into his dish, and cutting oflp a wing of 
it, — '' There, Miss, there's more than you can 
eat. Oons ! what should sucli a little chalky- 
faced puppet as you do with a whole partridge ! " 
At another time a mighty sweet disposed old dow- 
ager, who loomed most magnificently at the table, 
had a sauce-boat launched upon the capacious lap 
of a silver sprigged muslin gown, by the maneu- 
vering of a little politic Frenchman, who was 
dextrously attempting to make a lodgment under 
the covered way of a chicken-pie ; human nature 
could not bear it! — the lady bounced round, and, 
with one box on the ear, drove the luckless wight 
to utter annihilation. 

But these little cross accidents are amply com- 
pensated by the great variety of amusements 
which abounds at this charming resort of beauty 
and fashion. In the morning the company, each 
like a jolly Bacchanalian, with glass in hand, sally 
forth to the Springs : where the gentlemen, who 



366 SALMAGUNDI. 

wish to make themselves agreeable, have an op- 
portunitj of dipping themselves into the good 
opinion of the ladies ; and it is truly delectable to 
see with what grace and adroitness they perform 
this ingratiating feat. Anthony says that it is pe- 
culiarly amazing to behold the quantity of water 
the ladies drink on this occasion, lor the purpose 
of getting an appetite for breakfast. He assures 
me he lias been present when a young lady, of 
unparalleled delicacy, tossed off, in the space of a 
minute or two, one-and-twenty tumblers and a 
wine-glass full. On my asking Anthony whether 
the solicitude of the bystanders was not greatly 
awakened as to what might be the effects of this 
debauch, he replied, that the ladies at Ballston 
had become such great sticklers for the doctrine 
of evaporation, that no gentleman ever ventured 
to remonstrate against this excessive drinking for 
fear of bringing his philosophy into contempt. 
The most notorious water-drinkers, in particular, 
were continually holding forth on the surprising 
aptitude with which the Ballston waters evapora- 
ted ; and several gentlemen, who had the hardi- 
hood to question this female philosophy, were held 
in high displeasure. 

After breakfast, every one chooses his amuse- 
ment ; some take a ride into the pine woods, and 
enjoy the varied and romantic scenery of burnt 
trees, post and rail fences, pine flats, potato 
patches, and log huts ; others scramble up the sur- 
rounding sandhills, that look like the abodes of 
a gigantic race of ants ; — take a peep at other 
sand-hills beyond them ; — and then — come down 



PLEASURES AT THE SPRINGS. 367 

again. Others who are romantic, — and sundry 
young ladies insist upon being so whenever they 
visit the Springs, or go anywhere into the country, 
— stroll along the borders of a little swampy brooli 
that dra^s itself alon<? like an Alexandrine, and 
that so lazily as not to make a single murmur, 
watching tlie Httle tadpoles as they frolic, right 
flippantly, in the muddy stream, and listening to 
tlie inspiring melody of the harmonious frogs that 
croak upon its borders. Some play at billiards, 
some play at the fiddle, and some — play the fool ; 
— the latter being the most prevalent amusement 
at Ballston. 

These, together with abundance of dancing, 
and a prodigious deal of sleeping of afternoons, 
make up the variety of pleasures at the Springs — 
a delicious life of alternate lassitude and fatigue ; 
of laborious dissipation, and listless idleness ; of 
sleepless nights, and days spent in that dozing in- 
sensibility which ever succeeds them. Now and 
then, indeed, the influenza, the fever-and-ague, or 
some such pale-faced intruder, may happen to 
throvv a momentary damp on the general felicity ; 
but on the whole, Evergreen declares that Ball- 
ston wants only six things, to wit: good air, good 
wine, good living, good beds, good company, and 
good humor, to be the most enchanting place in 
the world — excepting Botany Bay, Musquito 
Cove, Dismal Swamp, and the black-hole at 
Calcutta. 



368 SALMAGUNDI. 

[The following letter from the sage Mustapha 
has cost us more trouble to decipher, and render 
into tolerable English, than any hitherto published. 
It was full of blots and erasures, particularly the 
latter part, which we have no doubt was penned 
in a moment of great wrath and indignation. 
Mustapha has often a rambling mode of writing, 
and his thoughts take such unaccountable turns, 
that it is difficult to tell one moment where he 
will lead you the next. This is particularly ob- 
vious in the commencement of his letters, which 
seldom bear much analogy to the subsequent 
parts ; he sets off with a flourish, like a dramatic 
hero — assumes an air of great pomposity, and 
struts up to his subject mounted most loftily on 
stilts. L. Langstaff.] 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 

KHAN, 

rO ASEM HACCHEM, PRINCIPAL SLAVE-DRIVER TO HIS HIGH- 
NESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

AMONG the variety of principles by which 
mankind are actuated, there is one, my 
dear Asem, which I scarcely know whether to 
consider as springing from grandeur and nobility 
of mind, or from a refined species of vanity and 
egotism. It is that singular, although almost 
universal desire of living in the memory of pos- 
terity ; of occupying a share of the world's 
attention, when we shall long since have ceased 
to be susceptible either of its praise or censure. 



MUTABILITY. 369 

Most of the passions of the mind are bounded by 

the grave ; sometimes, indeed, an anxious hope or 

trembling fear will venture beyond the clouds and 

darkness that rest upon our mortal horizon, and 

expatiate in boundless futurity ; but it is only this 

active love of fame which steadily contemplates 

its fruition, in the applause or gratitude of future 

ages. Indio-nant at the narrow limits which cir- 

cumscribe existence, ambition is forever struggling 

to soar beyond them ; to triumph over space and 

time, and to bear a name, at least, above the 

irritable oblivion in which everything else that 

concerns us must be involved. It is this, my 

friend, which prompts the patriot to his most 

heroic achievements ; which inspires the sublimest 

strains of the poet, and breathes ethereal fire into 

the productions of the painter and the statuary. 

For this the monarch rears the lofty column ; 

the laureled conqueror claims the triumphal arch ; 

while the obscure individual, who moved in a 

humbler sphere, asks but a plain and simple stone 

to mark his grave, and bear to the next generation 

this important truth, that he was born, died — 

and was buried. It .was this passion which once 

erected the vast Numidian piles, whose ruins we 

have so often regarded with wonder, as the shades 

of evening — fit emblems of oblivion — gradually 

stole over and enveloped them in darkness. It 

was this which gave being to those sublime 

monuments of Saracen magnificence, which nod 

in mouldering desolation, as the blast sweeps over 

our deserted plains. — How futile are all our 

eflForts to evade the obliterating hand of time I 
24 



370 SALMAGUNDI. 

As I traversed the dreary wastes of Egypt, on 
my journey to Grand Cairo, I stopped my camel 
for a while and contemplated, in awful admiration, 
the stupendous pyramids. An appalling silence 
prevailed around ; such as reigns in the wilderness 
when the tempest is hushed, and the beasts of 
prey have retired to their dens. The myriads 
that had once been employed in rearing these 
lofty mementoes of human vanity, whose busy 
hum once enlivened the solitude of the desert — 
had all been swept from the earth by the irresist- 
ible arm of death — all were mingled with their 
native dust ; all were forgotten ! Even the 
mighty names which these sepulchres were de- 
signed to perpetuate had long since faded from 
remembrance ; history and tradition afforded but 
vague conjectures, and the pyramids imparted a 
humiliating lesson to the candidate for immortality. 
— Alas! alas! said 1 to myself, how mutable are 
the foundations on which our proudest hopes of 
future fame are reposed ! He who imagines he 
has secured to himself the meed of deathless 
renown, indulges in deluding visions, which only 
bespeak the vanity of the dreamer. The storied 
obelisk — the triumphal arch — the swelling dome, 
shall crumble into dust, and the names they would 
preserve from oblivion shall often pass away, be- 
fore their own duration is accomplished. 

Yet this passion for fame, however ridiculous 
in the eye of the philosopher, deserves respect and 
consideration, from having been the source of so 
many illustrious actions ; and, hence it has beeu 
the practice in all enlightened governments to 



NATIONAL MONUMENTS. 371 

perpetuate by monuments, the memory of great 
men, as a testimony of respect for the illustrious 
dead, and to awaken in the bosoms of posterity 
an emulation to merit the same honorable dis- 
tinction. The people of the American logocracy, 
who pride themselves upon improving on every 
precept or example of ancient or modern govern- 
ments, have discovered a new mode of exciting 
this love of glory ; a mode by which they do 
honor to their great men, even in their life-time ! 
Thou must have observed by this time, that 
they manage everything in a manner peculiar to 
themselves ; and doubtless in the best possible 
manner, seeing they have denominated themselves 
" the most enliglitened people under the sun." 
Thou wilt, therefore, perhaps, be curious to know 
how they contrive to honor the name of a living 
patriot, and what unheard-of monument they 
erect in memory of his achievements. By the 
fiery beard of the mighty Barbarossa, but I can 
scarcely preserve tiie sobriety of a true disciple 
of Mahomet while I tell thee ! — wilt thou not 
smile, O, Massulman of invincible gravity, to 
learn that they honor their great men by eating, 
and that the only trophy erected to their exploits, 
is a public dinner ! But, trust me, Asem, even 
in this measure, whimsical as it may seem, the 
philosophic and considerate spirit of this people 
is admirably displayed. Wisely concluding that 
when the hero is dead, he becomes insensible to 
the voice of fame, the song of adulation, or the 
splendid trophy, they have determined that he 
shall enjoy his quantum of celebrity while living, 



372 SALMAGUNDI. 

and revel in the full enjoyment of a nine days' 
immortality. The barbarous nations of antiquity 
immolated human victims to the memory of their 
lamented dead, but the enlightened Americans 
offer up whole hecatombs of geese and calves, 
and oceans of wine, in honor of the illustrious 
living ; and the patriot has the felicity of hearing 
from every quarter, the vast exploits in gluttony 
and reveling that have been celebrated to the 
glory of his name. 

No sooner does a citizen signalize himself in a 
conspicuous manner in the service of his coun- 
try, than all the gormandizers assemble and dis- 
charge the national debt of gratitude, by giving 
him a diimer ; not that he really receives all the 
luxuries provided on this occasion ; no, my friend, 
it is ten chances to one that the great man does 
not taste a morsel from the table, and is, per- 
haps, five hundred miles distant ; and, to let thee 
into a melancholy fact, a patriot under this eco- 
nomic government, may be often in want of a din- 
ner, while dozens are devoui-ed in his praise. 
Neither are these repasts spread out for the hun- 
gry and necessitous, who might otherwise be 
filled with food and gladness, and inspii-ed to 
shout forth the illustrious name, which had been 
the means of their enjoyment; far from this, 
Asem ; it is the rich only who indulge in the ban- 
quet ; those who pay for the dainties are alone 
privileged to enjoy them ; so that, while opening 
their purses in honor of the patriot, they at the 
same time fulfill a great maxim, which in this 
country comprehends all the rules of prudence, 



PUBLIC DINNERS. 373 

and all the duties a man owes to himself—^ 
namely, getting the worth of their money. 

In process of time this mode of testifying pub« 
lie applause has been found so marvelously 
agreeable, that they extend it to events as well 
as characters, and eat in triumph at the news of 
a treaty — at the anniversary of any grand na- 
tional era, or at the gaining of that splendid vic- 
tory of the tongue an election. Nay, so far 

do they carry it, that certain days are set apart 
when the guzzlers, the gormandizers, and the 
wine-bibbers meet together to celebrate a grand 
indigestion, in memory of some great event ; and 
every man, in the zeal of patriotism, gets de- 
voutly drunk — " as the act directs." Then, my 
friend, mayest thou behold the sublime spectacle 
of love of country, elevating itself from a senti- 
ment into an appetite, whetted to the quick with 
the cheering prospect of tables loaded with the 
fat things of the land. On this occasion every 
man is anxious to fall to work, cram himself in 
honor of the day, and risk a surfeit in the glo- 
rious cause. Some, I have been told, actually 
fast for four-and-twenty hours preceding, that 
they may be enabled to do greater honor to the 
feast ; and, certainly, if eating and drinking are 
patriotic rites, he who eats and drinks most, and 
proves himself the greatest glutton, is, undoubt- 
edly, the most distinguished patriot. Such, at 
any rate, seems to be the opinion here ; and they 
act up to it so rigidly, that by the time it is dark, 
every kennel in the neighborhood teems with il- 
lustrious members of the sovereign people, wal- 



374 SALMAGUNDI. 

lowing: in their cono^enial element of mud and 
mire. 

These patriotic feasts, or rather national mon- 
uments, ure patronized and promoted by certain 
inferior cadis, called '' Aldermen ; " who are com- 
monly complimented with their direction. These 
dignitaries, as far as I can learn, are generally 
appointed on account of their great talents for 
eating, a qualification peculiarly necessary in the 
discharge of their official duties. They hold fre- 
quent meetings at taverns and hotels, where they 
enter into solemn consultations for the benefit of 
lobsters and turtles ; establish wholesome regu- 
lations for the safety and preservation of fish and 
wild-fowl ; appoint the seasons most proper for 
eating oysters ; inquire into the economy of tav- 
erns, the characters of publicans, and the abilities 
of their cooks ; and discuss, most learnedly, the 
merits of a bowl of soup, a chicken-pie, or a 
haunch of venison ; in a word, the alderman has 
absolute control in all matters of eating, and 
superintends the whole police — of the belly. 
Having, in the prosecution of their important 
office, signalized themselves at so many public 
festivals ; having gorged so often on patriotism 
and pudding, and entombed so many great names 
in their extensive maws, thou wilt easily con- 
ceive that they wax portly apace, that they fatten 
on the fame of mighty men, and that their ro- 
tundity, like the rivers, the lakes, and the moun- 
tains of their country, must be on a great scale ! 
Even so, my friend ; and when I sometimes see 
a portly alderman puffing along, and swelling a? 



TOASTS. 375 

if he had the world under his waistcoat, I cannot 
help looking upon him as a walking monument, 
and am often ready to exclaim : " Tell me, thou 
majestic mortal, thou breathing catacomb ! to 
what illustrious character, what mighty event, 
does that capacious carcass of thine bear testi- 
mony r 

But though the enlightened citizens of this log- 
ocracy eat in honor of their friends, yet they 
drink destruction to their enemies. Yea, Asera, 
woe unto those who are doomed to undergo the 
public vengeance at a public dinner. No sooner 
are the viands removed, than they prepare for 
merciless and exterminating hostilities. They 
drink the intoxicating juice of the grape, out of 
little glass cups, and over each draught pronounce 
a short sentence or prayer ; not such a prayer as 
thy virtuous heart would dictate, thy pious lips 
give utterance to, my good Asem ; not a tribute 
of thanks to all-bountiful Allah, nor a humble 
supplication for his blessing on the draught ; no, 
my friend, it is merely a toast, that is to say, a 
fulsome tribute of flattery to their demagogues ; 
a labored sally of affected sentiment or national 
egotism ; or, what is more despicable, a maledic- 
tion on their enemies, an empty threat of ven- 
geance, or a petition for their destruction ; for 
toasts, thou must know, are another kind of mis- 
sive weapon in a logocracy, and are leveled from 
afar, like the annoying arrows of the Tartars. 

O, Asem ! couldst thou but witness one of 
these patriotic, these monumental dinners; how 



376 SALMAGUNDI. 

furiously the flame of patriotism blazes forth ; 
how suddenly they vanquish armies, subjugate 
whole countries, and exterminate nations in a 
bumper, thou wouldst more than ever admire the 
force of that omnipotent weapon, the tongue. At 
these moments every coward becomes a hero, every 
ragamuffin an invincible warrior ; and the most 
zealous votaries of peace and quiet, forget, for a 
while, their cherished maxims, and join in the 
furious attack. Toasts succeeds toast ; kings, 
emperors, bashaws, are like chaff before the tem- 
pest ; the inspired patriot vanquishes fleets with 
a single gunboat, and swallows down navies at a 
draught, until, overpowered with victory and 
wine, he sinks upon the field of battle — dead 
drunk in his country's cause. Sword of the 
puissant Khalid ! what a display of valor is here ! 
— the sons of Afric are hardy, brave, and en- 
terprising, but they can achieve nothing like this. 
Happy would it be if this mania for toasting 
extended no further than to the expression of na- 
tional resentment. Thouo:h we miorht smile at 
tiie impotent vaporing and windy hyperbole, by 
which it is distinguished, yet we would excuse it, 
as the unguarded overflowings of a heart, glow- 
ing with national injuries, and itidignant at the 
insults offered to its country. But, alas, my 
friend, private resentment, individual hatred, and 
the illiberal spirit of party, are let loose on these 
festive occasions. Even the names of individ- 
uals, of unoffending fellow-citizens, are sometimes 
dragged forth to undei-go the slanders and exe- 



VINDICTIVE FESTIVITIES. 377 

cratious of a distempered herd of revelers. ^ 
Head of Mahomet ! how vindictive, how insatia- 
bly vindictive, must be that spirit which can 
drug the mantling bowl with gall and bitterness, 
and indulge an angry passion in the moment of 
rejoicing ! " Wine," says their poet, '■ is like sun- 
shine to the heart, which, under its generous in- 
fluence, expands with good will, and becomes the 
very temple of philanthrophy." Strange, that 
in a temple consecrated to such a divinity, there 
should remain a secret corner, polluted by the 
lurkings of malice and revenge, — strange, that 
in the full flow of social enjoyment, tiiese votaries 
of pleasure can turn aside to call down curses on 
the head of a fellow-creature. Despicable souls ! 
ye are unworthy of being citizens of this " most 
enlightened country under the sun : " rather herd 
with the murdeious savages who prowl the 
mountains of Tibesti ; who stain their midnight 
orgies with the blood of the innocent wanderer, 

NOTE BY WILLIAM WIZAKD, ESQ. 

1 It would seem that, in this sentence, the sage Mustapha 
had reference to a patriotic dinner, celebrated last 4th of July, 
by some gentlemen of Baltimore, when they righteously 
drank perdition to an unoffending individual, and really 
thought " they had done the state some service." This ami- 
able custom of " eating and drinking damnation " to others, 
is not confined to any party: for a month or two after the 
4th of July, the different newspapers file off their columns 
of patriotic toasts against each other, and take a pride in 
showing how brilliantly their partisans can blackguard public 
character in their cups — " They dd but jest — poison in jest," 
as Man\let sa\s. 



378 SALMAGUNDI. 

and drink their infernal potations from the skulls 
of the victims they have massacred. 

And yet, trust me, Asem, this spirit of vindic- 
tive cowardice is not owing to any inherent de- 
pravity of soul, for on otlier occasions, I have 
had ample proof that this nation is mild and 
merciful, brave and magnanimous ; neither is it 
owing to any defect in their political or religious 
precepts. The principles inculcated by their 
rulers, on all occasions, breathe a spirit of univer- 
sal philanthropy ; and as to their religion, much 
as 1 am devoted to the Koran of our divine 
prophet, still I cannot but acknowledge with ad- 
miration the mild forbearance, the amiable be- 
neyolence, tlie sublime morality bequeathed them 
by the founder of their faith. Thou remember- 
est the doctrines of the mild Nazarene, who 
preached peace and good-will to all mankind ; 
who, when he was reviled, reviled not again; who 
blessed those who cursed him, and prayed for 
those who despitefuUy used and persecuted him ! 
What, then, can give rise to this uncharitable, 
this inhuman custom among the disciples of a 
master so gentle and forgiving? It is that fiend 
politics, Asem — that baneful fiend which bewil- 
dereth every brain, and poisons every social feel- 
ing ; which intrudes itself at the festive banquet, 
and like the detestable harpy, pollutes the very 
viands of the table ; which contaminates the 
refreshing draught while it is inhaled; which 
prompts the cowardly assassin to launch his poi- 
soned arrows from behind the social board : and 
which renders the bottle, that boasted promoter 



THE FIEND POLITICS. 379 

of good fellowship and hilarity, an infernal engine 
charged with direful combustion. 

O, Asem ! Asem ! how does my heart sicken 
when I contemplate these cowardly barbarities ! 
let me, therefore, if possible, withdraw ray atten- 
tion from them forever. My feelings have borne 
me from my subject ; and from the monuments 
of ancient greatness, I have wandered to those of 
modern degradation. My warmest wishes remain 
with thee, thou most illustrious of slave-drivers; 
mayest thou ever be sensible of the mercies of 
our great prophet, who, in compassion to human 
imbecility, has prohibited his disciples from the 
use of the deluding beverage of the grape ; that 
enemy to reason — that promoter of defamation 
— that auxiliary of politics. 

Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 










NO. XVII.— WEDNESDAY, NOV. 11, 1807. 
AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS. 

BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 

HEN a man is quietly journeying down- 
ward into the valley of the shadow of 
departed youth, and begins to contem- 
jolate, in a shortened perspective, the end of his 
pilo-rimage, he becomes more solicitous than ever 
that the remainder of his wayfaring should be 
smooth and pleasant ; and the evening of his life, 
like the evening of a summer's day, fade away 
in mild uninterrupted serenity. If haply his 
heart has escaped uninjured through the dangers 
of a seductive world, it may then administer to 
the purest of his felicities, and its chords vibrate 
more musically for the trials they have sustained 

— like the viol which yields a melody sweet in 
proportion to its age. 

To a mind thus temperately harmonized — thus 
matured and mellowed b) i long lapse of years 

— there is something truly congenial in the quiet 
enjoyment of our early autumn, amid the tran- 
quillities of the country. There is a sober and 
chastened air of gayety diffused over the face of 
nature, peculiarly interesting to an old man ; 
and when he views the surrounding landscape 



AUTUMNAL REFLECTIONS. 381 

withering under his eye, it seems as if he and 
nature were takinoj a last farewell of each other 
and parting with a melancholy smile ; like a 
couple of old friends, who, having sported away 
the spring and summer of life together, part at 
the approach of winter with a kind of prophetic 
fear that they are never to meet again. 

It is either my good fortune, or mishap, to be 
keenly susceptible to the influence of the atmos- 
phere ; and I can feel in the morning, before I 
open my window, whether the wind is easterly. 
It will not, therefore, I presume, be considered 
an extravagant instance of vainglory when I as- 
sert, that there are few men who can discriminate 
more accurately in the different varieties of 
damps, fogs, Scotch mists, and northeast storms, 
than myself. To the great discredit of my phi- 
losophy, I confess, I seldom fail to anathematize 
and excommunicate the weather, when it sports 
too rudely with my sensitive system ; but then I 
always endeavor to atone therefor, by eulogizing 
it when deserving of approbation. And as most 
of my readers — simple folks ! — make but one 
distinction, to wit, rain and sunshine ; living in 
most honest ignorance of the various nice shades 
which distinguish one fine day from another, I 
take the trouble, from time to time, of letting 
them into some of the secrets of nature. So 
will they be the better enabled to enjoy her beau- 
ties, with the zest of connoisseurs, and derive at 
least as much information from my pages as from 
the weather-wise lore of the almanac. 

Much of my recreation, since I retreated to 



382 SALMAGUNDI. 

the Hall, has consisted in making little excursions 
through the neighborhood ; which abounds in the 
variety of wild, romantic, and luxuriant land- 
scape that generally characterizes the scenery in 
the vicinity of our rivers. There is not an emi- 
nence within a circuit of many miles but com- 
mands an extensive range of diversified and en- 
chanting prospect. 

Often have I rambled to the summit of some 
favorite hill ; and thence, with feelings sweetly 
tranquil, as the lucid expanse of the heavens 
that canopied me, have noted the slow and almost 
imperceptible changes that mark the waning year. 
There are many features peculiar to our autumn, 
and which give it an individual character. The 
" green and yellow melancholy " that first steals 
over the landscape — the mild and steady serenity 
of the weather, and the transparent purity of the 
atmosphere, speak, not merely to the senses, but 
the heart. It is the season of liberal emotions. 
To this succeeds fantastic gayety, a motley dress, 
which the woods assume, where green and yellow, 
orange, purple, crimson, and scarlet, are whimsi- 
cally blended together. A sickly splendor this ! 
— like the wild and broken-hearted gayety, that 
sometimes precedes dissolution, — or that childish 
sportiveness of superannuated age, proceeding, 
not from a vigorous flow of animal spirits, but 
from the decay and imbecility of the mind. We 
might, perhaps, be deceived by this gaudy garb of 
nature, were it not for the rustling of the falling 
leaf, which, breaking on the stillness of the scene, 
seems to announce, in prophetic whispers, the 



PREMATURE DECAY. 383 

dreary winter that is approacliing. When I have 
sometimes seen a thrifty young oak changing its 
hue of sturdy vigor for a bright, but transient 
glow of red, it has recalled to my mind the 
treacherous bloom that once mantled the cheek of 
a friend who is now no more; and which, while 
it seemed to promise a long life of jocund spirits, 
was the sure precursor of premature decay. In 
a little while, and this ostentatious foliage dis- 
appears ; the close of autumn leaves but one wide 
expanse of dusky brown, save where some rivu- 
let steals along, bordered with little strips of green 
grass ; the woodland echoes no more to the carols 
of the feathered tribes that sported in the leafy 
covert, and its solitude and silence is uninter- 
rupted except by the plaintive whistle of the 
quail, the barking of the squirrel, or the still 
more melancholy wintry wind, which, rushing 
and swelling through the hollows of the moun- 
tains, sighs through the leafless branches of the 
grove, and seems to mourn the desolation of the 
year. 

To one who, like myself, is fond of drawing 
comparisons between the different divisions of life, 
and those of the seasons, there will appear a 
striking analogy, which connects the feelings of 
the aged with the decline of the year. Often, as 
I contemplate the mild, uniform, and genial lustre 
wdth which the sun cheers and invigorates us in 
the month of October, and the almost impercep- 
tible haze which, without obscuring, tempers* all 
the asperities of the landscape, and gives to every 
object a character of stillness and repose, I can* 



384 SALMAGUNDI. 

not help comparing it with that portion of exis- 
tence when, the spring of youthful hope and the 
summer of the passions having gone by, reason 
assumes an undisputed sway, and lights us on with 
bright, but undazzling lustre, adown the hill of 
life. There is a full and mature luxuriance in 
the fields that fills the bosom with generous and 
disinterested content. It is not the thouojhtless 
extravagance of spring, prodigal only in blos- 
soms, nor the languid voluptuousness of summer, 
feverish in its enjoyments, and teeming only with 
immature abundance — it is that certain fruition 
of the labors of the past — that prospect of com- 
fortable realities, which those will be sure to en- 
joy who have improved the beauteous smUes of 
heaven, nor wasted away their spring and sum- 
mer in empty trifling or criminal indulgence. 

Cousin Pindar, who is my constant companion 
in these expeditions, and who still possesses much 
of the fire and energy of youthful sentiment, and 
a buxom hilarity of the spirits, often, indeed, 
draws me from these half- melancholy reveries, 
and makes me feel young again by the enthusi- 
asm with which he contemplates, and the ani- 
mation with which he eulogizes the beauties of 
nature displayed before him. His enthusiastic 
disposition never allows him to enjoy things by 
halves, and his feelings are continually breaking 
out in notes of admiration and ejaculations that 
sober reason might perhaps deem extravagant. 
But, for my part, when I see a hale, hearty old 
man, who has jostled through the rough path 
of the world, without having worn away the fine 



SYMPATHIES OF THE SEASON. 385 

edges of his feelings, or blunted his sensibility 
to natural and moral beauty, I compare him to 
the evergreen of the forest, whose colors, instead 
of fading at the approach of winter, seem to 
assume additional lustre, when contrasted with 
the surrounding desolation. Such a man is my 
friend Pindar ; yet sometimes, and particularly at 
the approach of evening, even he will fall in with 
my humor ; but he soon recovers his natural tone 
of spirits ; and, mounting on the elasticity of his 
mind, like Ganymede on the eagle's wing, he 
soars to the ethereal regions of sunshine and 
fancy. 

One afternoon we had strolled to the top of a 
high hill in the neighborhood of the Hall, which 
commands an almost boundless prospect ; and as 
the shadows began to lengthen around us, and the 
distant mountains to fade into mist, my cousin 
was seized with a moralizino; fit. " It seems to 
me," said he, laying his hand lightly on my 
shoulder, " that there is just at this season, and 
this hour, a sympathy between us and the world 
we are now contemplating. The evening is 
stealing upon nature as well as upon us ; the 
shadows of the opening day have given place to 
those of its close ; and the only difference is, that 
in the morning they were before us, now they 
are behind ; and that the first vanished in the 
splendors of noonday, the latter will be lost in 
the oblivion of night. Our ' May of life,' my 
dear Launce, has forever fled •, our summer is 
over and gone — but," continued he, suddenly re- 
covering himself, and slapping me gayly on the 



386 SALMAGUNDI. 

Bhoulder — "but why should we repine? — what? 
though the capricious zephyrs of spring, the 
heats and hurricanes of summer, have given place 
to the sober sunshine of autumn ! and though 
the woods begin to assume the dappled livery of 
decay.! yet the prevailing color is still green — 
gay, sprightly green. 

" Let us theu comfort ourselves with this re- 
flection ; that though the shades of the morning 
have given place to those of the evening — 
though the spiing is past, the summer over, and 
the autumn come — still you and I go on our 
way rejoicing, and while, like the lofty moun- 
tains of our southern America, our heads are 
covered with snow, still, like them, we feel the 
genial warmth of spring and summer playing 
upon our bosoms." 



BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ., 

IN the description which I gave some time 
since, of Cockloft Hall, I totally forgot to 
make honorable mention of the library, which I 
confess was a most inexcusable oversight ; for in 
truth it would bear a comparison, in point of use- 
fulness and eccentricity, with the motley collec- 
tion of the renowned hero of La Mancha. 

It was chiefly gathered together by my grand- 
father; who spared neither pains nor expense to 
procure specimens of the oldest, most quaint, and 
insufferable books in the whole compass of Eng- 



THE COCKLOFT LIBRARY. 387 

lish, Scotch, and Irish literature. There is a tra- 
dition in the family that the old gentleman once 
gave a grand entertainment in consequence of 
having got possession of a copy of a phillipic, by 
Archbishop Ansel m, against the unseemly luxury 
of long-toed shoes, as worn by the courtiers in 
the time of William Rufus, which he purchased 
of an honest brick-maker in the neighborhood, for 
a little less than forty times its value. He had 
undoubtedly a singular reverence for old authors, 
and his highest eulogium on his library was, that 
it consisted of books not to be met with in any 
other collection ; and as the phrase is, entirely 
out of print. The reason of which was, I sup- 
pose, that they were not worthy of being re- 
printed. 

Cousin Christopher preserves these relics with 
great care, and has added considerably to the col- 
lection ; for with the Hall he has inherited almost 
all the whimwhams of its former possessor. He 
cherishes a reverential regaid for ponderous tomes 
of Greek and Latin ; though he knows about as 
much of these languages, as a young Bachelor of 
Arts does a year or two after leaving college. A 
worm-eaten work in ei^ht or ten volumes he com- 
pares to an old family, more respectable for its 
antiquity than its splendor ; a lumbering folio he 
considers as a duke ; a sturdy quarto, as an earl ; 
and a row of gilded duodecimos, as so many gal- 
lant knights of the garter. But as to modern 
works of literature, they are thrust into trunks 
and drawers, as intruding upstarts, and regarded 
with as much contempt as mushroom nobility in 



388 SALMAGUNDI. 

England ; who, having risen to grandeur, merely 
by their talents and sej vices, are regarded as n\r 
terly unworthy to mingle their blood with those 
noble currents that can be traced without a single 
contamination through a long line of, perhaps, 
useless and profligate ancestors, up to William 
the Bastard's cook, or butler, or groom, or some 
one of Rollo's freebooters. 

Will Wizard, whose studies are of a most un- 
common complexion, takes great delight in ran- 
sacking the library ; and has been, during his 
late sojournings at the Hall, very constant and 
devout in his visits to this receptacle of obsolete 
learning. He seemed particularly tickled with 
the contents of the great mahogany chest of 
drawers mentioned in the beginning of this work. 
This venerable piece of architecture has frowned 
in sullen majesty, from a corner of the library, 
time out of mind ; and is filled with musty man- 
uscripts, some in my grandfather's hand-writing 
and others evidently written long before his day. 

It was a sight, worthy of a man's seeing, tc 
behold Will with his outlandish phiz poring over 
old scrawls that would puzzle a whole society of 
antiquarians to expound, and diving into recepta- 
cles of trumpery, which for a century past, had 
been undisturbed by mortal hand. He would sit 
for whole hours, with a phlegmatic patience un- 
known in these degenerate days, except, perad- 
venture, among the High Dutch commentators, 
prying into the quaint obscurity of musty parch- 
ments, until his whole face seemed to be con- 
verted into a folio leaf of black letter ; and occa- 



DRYASDUST. 389 

gionally, when the whimsical meaning of an ob- 
scure passage flashed on his mind, his counte- 
nance would curl up into an expression of gothic 
risibility, not unlike the physiognomy of a cab- 
bage leaf wiltino- before a hot fire. 

At such times there was no getting Will to 
join in our walks ; or take any part in our usual 
recreations ; he hardly gave us an oriental tale 
in a week, and would smoke so inveterately that 
no one else dared to enter the library under pain 
of suffocation. This was more especially the 
case when he encountered any knotty piece of 
writing ; and he honestly confessed to me that 
one worm-eaten manuscript, wrtten in a pesti- 
lent crabbed hand, had cost him a box of the 
best Spanish cigars before he could make it out ; 
and after all, it was not worth a tobacco-stalk. 
Such is the turn of my knowing associate ; only 
let him get fairly in the track of any odd out-of- 
the-w^ay whim wham, and away he goes, whip 
and cut, until he either runs down his game, or 
runs himself out of breath; I never in my life 
met with a man who rode his hobby-horse more 
intolerably hard than Wizard. 

One of his favorite occupations, for some time 
past, has been the hunting of black letter, which 
he holds in high regard ; and he often hints, that 
learning has been on the decline ever since the 
introduction of the Roman alphabet. An old 
book printed three hundred years ago is a treas- 
ure ; and a ragged scroll, about one-half unintel- 
ligible, fills him with rapture. O*! with what 
enthusiasm will he dwell on the discovery of the 



390 SALMA(W\D[. 

Pandects of Justinian, and Livy's history ; and 
when he relates the pious exertions of the Med- 
ici, in recovering the lost treasures of Greek 
and Roman literature, his eye brightens, and his 
face assumes all the splendor of an illuminated 
manuscript. 

Will had vegetated for a considerable time in 
perfect tranquillity among dust and cobvrebs, when 
one morning as we were gathered on the piazza, 
listening with exemplary patience to one of Cous- 
in Christopher's long stories about the Revolu- 
tionary War, we were suddenly electrified by an 
explosion of laughter from the library. My 
readers, unless perad venture they have heard 
honest Will laugh, can form no idea of the pro- 
digious uproar he makes. To hear him in a for- 
est, you would imagine — that is to say if you 
were classical enough — that the satyrs and the 
dryads had just discovered a pair of rural lovers 
in the shade, and were deriding, with bursts of 
obstreperous laughter, the blushes of the nymph 
and the indignation of the swain, — or if it were 
suddenly, as in the present instance, to break 
upon the serene and pensive silence of an au- 
tumnal morning, it would cause a sensation some- 
thing like that which arises from hearing a sud- 
den clap of thunder in a summer's day, when not 
a cloud is to be seen above the horizon. In 
short, I recommend Will's laugh as a sovereign 
remedy for the spleen : and if any of our read- 
ers are troubled with that villainous complaint — 
which can hardly be, if they make good use of 
our works — I advise them earnestly to get in- 
troduced to him forthwith. 



WILVS LAUGHTER. 391 

This outrageous merriment of Will's, as may 
be easily supposed, threw the whole family into 
a violent lit of wondering ; we all, with the ex- 
ception of Christopher, who took the interrup- 
tion in high dudgeon, silently stole up to the li- 
brary ; and bolting in upon him, were fain at the 
first glance to join in his aspiring roar. His face 
— but I despair to give an idea of his appear- 
ance ! — and until his portrait, which is now in 
the hands of an eminent artist, is engraved, my 
readers must be content : I promise them they 
shall one day or other have a striking likeness of 
Will's indescribable phiz, in all its native comeli- 
ness. 

Upon my inquiring the occasion of his mirth, 
he thrust an old, rusty, musty, and dusty manu- 
script into my hand, of which I could not deci- 
pher one word out of ten, without more trouble 
than it was wortli. This task, however, he kindly 
took off my hands ; and, in a little more than 
eight-and-forty hours, produced a translation into 
fair Roman letters ; though he assured me it had 
lost a vast deal of its humor by being modern- 
ized and degraded into plain English. In return 
for the great pains he had taken, I could not do 
less than insert it in our work. Will informs me 
that it is but one sheet of a stupendous bundle 
which still remains uninvestigated. Who was the 
author we have not yet discovered ; but a note 
on the back, in my grandfather's handwriting, in- 
informs us that it was presented to him as a lit- 
erary curiosity by his particular friend, the illus- 
trious Rip Van Dam, formerly lieutenant - gov- 



392 SALMAGUNDI. 

ernor of the colony of New Amsterdam ; and 
whose fame, if it has never reached these latter 
days, it was only because he was too modest a 
man ever to do anything worthy of being par- 
ticularly recorded. 



CHAP. CIX. — OF THE CHRONICLES OF THE RE- 
NOWNED AND ANTIENT CITY OF GOTHAM. 

How Gotham city conquered was, 

And how the folks turned apes — because. 

Link. Fid. 

A LBEIT, much about lliis time it did fall out 
i\ that the thrice renowned and delectable city 
of Gotham did suffer great discomfiture, and was 
reduced to perilous extremity, by the invasion 
and assaults of the Hoj^pingtQts. These are a 
people inhabiting a far distant country, exceed- 
ingly pleasaunte and fertile ; but they being withal 
egregiously addicted to migrations, do thence is- 
sue forth in mighty swarms, like the Scythians 
of old, overrunning divers countries and com- 
monwealths, and committing great devastations 
wheresoever they do go, by their horrible and 
dreadful feats and prowesses. They are specially 
noted for being right valorous in all exercises of 
the leg; and of them it hath been rightly af- 
firmed that no nation in all Christendom or else- 
where, can cope with them in the adroit, dexter- 
ous, and jocund shaking of the heel. 

This engaging excellence doth stand unto them 



A CHRONICLE OF GOTHAM. 393 

a sovereign recommendation, by which they do 
insinuate themselves into universal favor and 
good countenance ; and it is a notable fact, that, 
let a Hoppingtot but once introduce a foot into 
company, and it goeth hardly if he doth not con- 
trive to flourish his whole body in thereafter. 
The learned Linkum Fidelius, in his famous and 
unheard of treatise on man, whom he defineth, 
with exceeding sagacity, to be a corn-cutting, 
tooth-drawing animal, is particularly minute and 
elaborate in treating of the nation of the Hop- 
pingtots, and betrays a little of the Pythagorean 
in his theory, inasmuch as he accounteth for their 
being so wonderously adroit in pedestrian exer- 
cises, by supposing that they did originally ac- 
quire this unaccountable and unparalleled apti- 
tude for huge and unmatchable feats of the leo-, 
by having heretofore been condemned for their 
numerous offenses against that harmless race of 
bipeds, — or quadrupeds, for herein the sage 
Linkum Fidelius appeareth to doubt and waver 
exceedingly — the frogs, to animate their bodies 
for the space of one or two generations. 

He also giveth it as his opinion, that the name 
of Hoppingtots is manifestly derivative from this 
transmigration. Be this, however, as it may, the 
matter, albeit it has been the subject of contro- 
versy among the learned, is but little pertinent 
to the subject of this history ; wherefore shall we 
treat and consider it as naughte. 

Now these people being thereto impelled by a 
superfluity of appetite, and a plentiful deficiency 
of the wherewithal to satisfy the same, did take 



394 SALMAGUNDI. 

thought that the antlent and venerable city of 
Gotham, was, peradventure, possessed of mighty 
treasures, and did, moreover, abound with all 
manner of fish and flesh, and eatables and drink- 
ables, and such like delightsome and wholesome 
excellencies withal. Whereupon calling a coun- 
cil of the most active heeled warriors, they did 
resolve forthwith to put forth a mighty array, 
make themselves masters of the same, and revel 
in the good things of the land. To this were 
they hotly stirred up, and wickedly incited, by 
two redoubtable and renowned warriors, hight 
Pirouet and Rigadoon ; ycleped in such sort, 
by reason that they were two mighty, valiant, 
and invincible little men ; utterly famous for the 
victories of the leg which they had, on divers 
illustrious occasions, right gallantly achieved. 

These doughty champions did ambitiously and 
wickedly inflame the minds of their countrymen, 
with gorgeous descriptions, in the which they did 
cunninglie set forth the marvelous riches and 
luxuries of Gotham ; where Hoppingtots might 
have garments for their bodies, shirts to their 
rufiles, atid might riot most merrily every day in 
the week on beef, pudding, and such like lusty 
dainties. They, Pirouet and Rigadoon, did like- 
wise hold out hopes of an easy conquest ; foras- 
much as the Gothamites were as yet but little 
versed in the mystery and science of handling the 
legs ; and being, moreover, like unto that notable 
bully of antiquity, Achilles, most vulnerable to 
all attacks on the heel, would doubtless surrender 
at the very first assault. Whereupon, on the 



THE HOPPJNGTOTS. 395 

hearing of this inspiriting counsel, the Hoppingtots 
did set up a prodigious great cry of joy, shook 
their heels in triumph, and were all impatience 
to dance on to Gotham and take it by storm. 

The cunning Pirouet, and that arch caitiff 
Rigadoon, knew full well how to {)rofit of this 
enthusiasm. They forthwith did order every 
man to arm himself with a certain pestilent little 
weapon called a fiddle ; to pack up in his knapsack 
a pair of silk breeches, the like of ruffles, a 
cocked hat of the form of a half-moon, a bundle 
of catgut — and inasmuch as in marching to 
Gotham, the army might peradventure be smitten 
with scarcity of provisions, they did account it 
proper that each man should take especial care 
to carry with him a bunch of right merchantable 
onions. Having proclaimed these orders by 
sound of fiddle, they, Pirouet and Rigadoon, did 
accordingly put their army behind them, and 
striking up the right jolly and sprightful tune of 
Ca Ira, away they all capered toward the devoted 
city of Gotham, with a most horrible and appall- 
ing chattering of voices. 

Of their first appearance before the beleagured 
town, and of the various difficulties w^hich did 
encounter them in their march, this history saith 
not ; being that other matters of more weighty 
import require to be written. When that the 
army of the Hoppingtots did peregrinate within 
sight of Gotham, and the people of the city did 
behold the villainous and hitherto unseen capers 
and grimaces which they did make, a most 
horrific panic was stirred up among the citizens ; 



396 SALMAGUNDI. 

and the sages of the town fell into great despon- 
dency and tribulation, as supposing that these 
invaders were of the race of the Jig-hees, w^ho 
did make men into baboons when they achieved 
a conquest over them. The sages, therefore, 
called upon all the dancing men and dancing 
women, and exhorted them, with great vehemence 
of speech, to make heel against the invaders, and 
to put themselves upon such gallant defense, such 
glorious array, and such sturdy evolution, eleva- 
tion, and transposition of the foot as might incon- 
tinently impester the legs of the Hoppingtots, and 
produce their complete discomfiture. But so it did 
happen, by great mischance, that divers light-heeled 
youths of Gotham, more especially those who are 
descended from three wise men, so renowned of 
yore for having most venturesomely voyaged over 
sea in a bowl, were, from time to time, captured 
and inveigled into the camp of the enemy ; where, 
being foolishly cajoled and treated for a season 
with outlandish disports and pleasantries, they 
w^ere sent back to their friends, entirely changed, 
degenerated, and turned topsy-turvy : insomuch 
that they thought thenceforth of nothing but their 
heels, always essaying to thrust them into the 
most manifest point of view ; and, in a word, as 
might truly be affirmed, did forever after walk 
upon their heads outright. 

And the Hoppingtots did day by day, and at 
late hours of the night, wax more and more 
urgent in this their investment of the city. At 
one time ihey would, in goodly procession, make 
an open assault by sound of fiddle in a treraen- 



PIROUET. 397 

dous contra-dance — and anon they would ad- 
vance by little detachments and maneuvers to 
take the town by figuring in cotillons. But truly 
their most cunning and devilish craft and sub- 
tiltv was made manifest in their strenuous en- 
deavors to corrupt the ^rrison, by a most insidious 
and pestilent dance called the Waltz. This, in 
good truth, was a potent auxiliary ; for, by it, 
were tlie heads of the simple Gothamites most 
villainously turned, their wits sent a wool-gather- 
ing, and themselves on the point of surrendering 
at discietion even unto the \Q.vy arms of their 
invading foemen. 

At length the fortifications of the town began 
to give manifest symptoms of decay ; inasmuch 
as the breastwork of decency was considerably 
broken down, and the curtain works of propriety 
blown up. When that cunning catiff, Pirouet, be- 
held the ticklish and jeopardized state of the 
city — " Now, by my leg," quoth he, — he always 
swore by his leg, being that it was an exceedingly 
goodlie leg, — '' now, by my leg," quoth he, "but 
this is no great matter of recreation ; I will show 
these people a pretty, strange, and new way, 
forsooth, presentlie, and will shake the dust off my 
pumps upon this most obstinate and uncivilized 
town. Whereupon he ordered, and did command 
his warriors, one and all, that they should put 
themselves in readiness, and prepare to carry the 
town by a grand ball. They, in nowise to be 
daunted, do forthwith, at the word, equip them- 
. selves for the assault ; and in good faith, truly, it 
was a gracious and glorious sight — a most 



398 SALMAGUNDI. 

triumphant and incomparable spectacle — to he- 
hold them gallantly arrayed in glossy and shining 
silk breeches tied with abundance of ribbon ; with 
silken hose of the gorgeous color of the salmon ; 
right goodlie morocco pumps, decorated with 
clasps or buckles of a m#st cunninge and secret 
contrivance, inasmuch as they did of themselves 
grapple to the shoe without any aid of fluke or 
tongue, marvelously ensembling witchcraft and 
necromancy. They had, withal, exuberant chit- 
terlings, which puffed out at the neck and bosom, 
after a most jolly fashion, like unto the beard of an 
antient he-turkey ; and cocked hats, the which 
they did carry not on their heads, after the fashion 
of the Gothamites, but under their arms, as a 
roasted fowl his gizzard. 

Thus being equipped and marshaled, they do 
attack, assault, batter, and belabor the town with 
might and main ; most gallantly displaying the 
vigor of their legs, and shaking their heels at it 
most emphatically. And the manner of their 
attack was in this sort : first, they did thunder 
and gallop forward in a contre-temps — and anon, 
displayed column in a Cossack dance, a fandango, 
or a gavot. Whereat the Gothamites, in nowise 
understanding this unknown system of warfare, 
marveled exceedinglie, and did open their mouths 
incontinently, the full distance of a bow-shot, 
meaning a cross-bow, in sore dismay and appre- 
hension. Whereupon, saith Rigadoon, flourishing 
his left leg with great expression of valor, and 
most magnific carriage : " My copesmates, for 
what wait we here ? are not the townsmen already 



CAPTURE OF GOTHAM. 39S 

won to oiir favor ? do not their women and 
young damsels wave to us from the walls in such 
sort that, albeit there is some show of defense, 
yet is it manifestly converted into our interests?'* 
So saying, he made no more ado, but leaping into 
the air about a flisht-shot, and crossincr his feet 
six times, after the manner of the Hoppingtots, 
he gave a short partiidge-run, and with mighty 
vio;or and swiftness did bolt outrigrht over the 
walls with a somerset. The whole army of 
Hoppingtots danced in after their valiant chieftain, 
witli an enormous squeaking of fiddles, and a 
horrific blasting and brattling of horns ; insomuch 
that the dogs did howl in the streets, so hideously 
were their ears assailed. The Gothamites made 
some semblance of defense, but their women 
having been all won over into the interest of the 
enemy, they were shortly reduced to make most 
abject submission ; and delivered over to the 
coercion of certain professors of the Hoppingtots, 
who did put them under most ignominious dur- 
ance, for the space of a long time, until they had 
learned to turn out their toes, and flourish their 
legs after the manner of their conquerors. And 
thus, after the manner I have related, was the 
miohty and puissant city of Gotham ciicumvented, 
and taken by a coup de pied : or, as it might be 
rendered, by force of legs. 

The conquerors showed no mercy, but did put 
all ages, sexes, and conditions, to the fiddle and 
the dance ; and, in a word, compelled and enforced 
them to become absolute Hoppingtots. " Habit,'* 
as the ingenious Linkum Fidelius profoundly 



400 SALMAGUNDI. 

affirmeth, " is second nature." And this original 
and invaluable observation hath been most aptly 
proved, and illustrated, by the example of the 
Gothamites, ever since this disastrous and unlucky 
mischance. In process of time, they have waxed 
to be most flagrant, outrageous, and abandoned 
dancers ; they do ponder on naughte but how to 
gallantize it at balls, routs, and fandangoes ; inso- 
much that the like was in no time or place ever 
observed before. They do moreover, pitifully de- 
vote their nights to tlie jollification of the legs, 
and their days forsooth to the instruction and 
edification of the heel. And to conclude ; their 
young folk, who whilome did bestow a modicum 
of leisure upon the head, have of late utterly 
abandoned this hopeful task, and have quietly, as 
it were, settled themselves down into mere ma- 
chines, wound up by a tune, and set in motion by 
a fiddlestick ! 




NO. XVIIL — TUESDAY, NOV. 24, 1807. 



THE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK. 



BY LAUNCELOT LANGSTAFF, ESQ. 



HE following story has been handed down 
j by family tradition for more than a cen- 
l^s^Ssiij tury. It is one on which my cousin 
Ciiri.stopher dwells with more than usual prolixity ; 
and, being in some measure connected with a 
personage often quoted in our work, 1 have 
thought it wortliy of being laid before my readers. 

Soon after my grandfather, Mr. Lemuel Cock- 
loft, had quietly settled himself at the Hall, and 
just about the time that the gossips of the neigh- 
borhood, tii-ed of prying into his affairs, were 
anxious for some new^ tea-table topic, the busy 
community of our little village was thrown into 
a grand turmoil of curiosity and conjecture — a 
situation very common to little gossiping villages 
-— by the sudden and unaccountable appearance 
of a mysterious individual. 

The object of this solicitude was a little black- 
looking man, of a foreign aspect, who took pos- 
session of an old b ilding, which having long had 
the reputation of being haunted, was in a state 
of ruinous desolation, and an object of fear to all 
2G 



402 SALMAGUNDI. 

true believers in ghosts. He usually wore a hi»h 
Bugar-loaf hat wiih a narrow brim ; and a little 
black cloak, which, short as he was, scarcely 
reached below his knees. He sought no intimacy 
or acquaintance with any one ; appeared to take 
no interest in the pleasures or the little broils of 
the village ; nor ever talked ; except sometimes to 
himself in an outlandish tongue. He commonly 
carried a large book, covered with sheepskin, 
under his arm ; appeared always to be lost iu 
meditation ; and was often met by the peasantry, 
sometimes watching the dawning of day, some- 
times at noon seated under a tree, poring over 
his volume ; and sometimes at evening gazing 
with a look of sober tranquillity at the sun as it 
gradually sunk below the horizon. 

The good people of the vicinity beheld some- 
thing prodigiously singular in all this ; a profound 
mystery seemed to hang about the stranger which, 
with all their sagacity, they could not penetrate; 
and in the excess of worldly charity they pro- 
nounced it a sure sign " that he was no better 
than he should be ; " a phrase innocent enough 
in itself: but which, as applied in common, signi- 
fies nearly everything that is bad. The young 
people tliought him a gloomy misanthrope, because 
he never joined in their sports ; the old men 
thought still more hardly of him because he fol- 
lowed no trade, and never seemed ambitious of 
earning a farthing ; and as to the old gossips, 
baffled by the inflexible taciturnity of the stran- 
ger, they unanimously decreed that a man who 
could not or would not talk was no better than a 



TEE LITTLE MAN IN BLACK. 40/) 

dumb beast. The little man in black, carele>s 
of their opinions, seemed resolved to maintain 
the liberty of keeping his own secret ; and the 
consequence was that, in a little while, the whole 
village was in an uproar ; for in little communi- 
ties of this description, the members have always 
the privilege of being thoroughly versed, and 
even of meddling in all the affairs of each other 

A confidential conference was held one Sunday 
morning after sermon, at the door of the village 
church, and the character of the unknown fully 
investigated. The schoolmaster gave it as his 
opinion that he was the wandering Jew ; the sex- 
ton was certain that he must be a freemason, 
from his silence ; a third maintained, with great 
obstinacy, that he was a high German doctor, 
and that the book which he carried about with 
him contained the secrets of the black art ; but 
the most prevailing opinion seemed to be that he 
was a witch ; a race of beings at that time 
abounding in those parts ; and a sagacious old 
matron, from Connecticut, proposed to ascertain 
the fact by sousing him into a kettle of hot water. 

Suspicion, when once afloat, goes with wind 
and tide, and soon becomes ceilainty. Many a 
stormy night was the little man in black seen by 
the flashes of lightninjr, friskino- and curveting in 
the air upon a broomstick ; and it was always 
observed that at those times the storm did more 
mischief than at any other. The old lady, in 
particular, who suggested the humane ordeal of 
the boiling kettle, lost on one of these occasions 
a fine briudle cow; which accident was entirely 



404 SALMAGUNDI. 

ascribed to the vengeance of the little man iu 
black. If ever a mischievous hireling rode his 
master's favorite horse to a distant frolic, and the 
animal was observed to be lame and jaded in the 
morning, the little man in black was sure to 
be at the bottom of the affair ; nor could a high 
wind howl through the village at night but the 

■J '^ O 

old women shrugged up their shoulders, and ob- 
served, " the little man in black was in his tan- 
trutns." In short, he became the bugbear of 
evei-y house ; and was as effectual in frightening 
little children into obedience and hysterics, as the 
redoubtable Raw-head-and-bloody-bones himself; 
nor could a housewife of the village sleep in peace 
except under the guardianship of a horseshoe 
nailed to the door. 

The object of these direful suspicions remained 
for some time totally ignorant of the wonderful 
quandary he had occasioned ; but he was soon 
doomed to feel its effects. An individual who is 
once so unfortunate as to incur the odium of a 
village is in a great measure outlawed and pro- 
scribed ; and becomes a mark for injury and in- 
sult; particularly if he has not the power or the 
disposition to recriminate. The little venomous 
passions, which in the great world are dissipated 
and weakened by being widely diffused, act in 
the narrow limits of a country town with col- 
lected vigor, and become rancorous in proportion 
as they are confined in their sphere of action. 
The little man in black experienced the truth of 
this ; every mischievous urchin returning from 
school had full liberty to break his windows ; and 



TEL POOR TURNSPIT. 405 

Ais was considered as a most daring exploit ; for 
in such awe did they stand of him, that the most 
adventurous schoolboy was never seen to ap- 
proach his threshold, and at night would prefer 
going round by the cross-roads, where a traveller 
had been murdered by the Indians, rather than 
pass by the door of his forlorn habitation. 

The only living creature that seemed to have 
any care or affection for this deserted being was 
an old tui'nspit — the companion of his lonely 
mansion and his solitary wandering — the sharer 
of his scanty meals, and — sorry I am to say it 
— the sharer of his persecutions. The turnspit, 
like his master, was peaceable and inoffensive ; 
never known to bark at a horse, to growl at a 
traveller, or to quarrel with the dogs of the 
neighborhood. He followed close at his master's 
heels when he went out, and when he returned 
stretched himself in the sunbeams at the door ; 
demeaning himself in all things like a civil and 
well-disposed turnspit. But notwithstanding his 
exemplary deportment, he fell likewise under the 
ill report of the village, as being the familiar of 
the little man in black, and the evil spirit that 
presided at his incantations. The old hovel was 
considered as the scene of their unhallowed rites, 
and its harmless tenants regarded with a detesta- 
tion which their inoffensive conduct never merited. 
Though pelted and jeered at by the brats of the 
village, and frequently abused by their parents, 
the little man in black never turned to rebuke 
(hem; and his faithful dog, when wantonly as- 
saulted, looked up wistfully in his master's face, 



406 SALMAGUNDI. 

and tliere learned a lesson of patience and for- 
beai'ance. 

The movements of this inscrutable being had 
\ou^ been the subject of speculation at Cockloft 
Hall, for its inmates were full as much given to 
wondering as their descendants. The patience 
with which he bore his persecutions particularly 
surprised them ; for patience is a virtue but little 
known in the Cockloft family. My grandmother, 
who, it appears, was rather superstitious, saw in 
this humility nothing but the gloomy suUenness 
of a wizard who restrained himself for the pres- 
ent, in hopes of midnight vengeance ; the parson 
of the village, who was a man of some reading, 
pronounced it the stubborn insensibility of a stoic 
philosopher ; my grandfather, who, worthy soul, 
seldom wandered abroad in search of conclusions, 
took a data from his own excellent heart, and re- 
garded it as the humble forgiveness of a Chris- 
tian. But however different were their opinions 
as to the character of the stranger, they agreed 
in one particular, namely, in never intruding upon 
his solitude; and my grandmother, who was at 
that time nursing my mother, never left the room 
without wisely putting the large family Bible in 
the cradle — a sure talisman, in her opinion, 
against witchcraft and necromancy. 

One stormy winter night, when a bleak north- 
east wind moaned about the cottages, and howled 
around the village steeple, my grandfather was 
returning from club, preceded by a servant with 
a lantern. Just as he arrived opposite the deso- 
late abode of the little man in black, he was 



THE LAST SCENE. 407 

nrrested by the piteous howling of a dog, which, 
heard in the pauses of a storm, was exquisitely 
mournful ; and he fancied, now and then, that he 
caught the low and broken groans of some one in 
distress. He stopped for some minutes, hesita- 
ting between the benevolence of his heart and a 
sensation of geimine delicacy, which, in spite of 
his eccentricity, he fully possessed — and which 
forbade him to pry into the concerns of his neigh- 
bors. Perhaps, too, this hesitation might have 
been strengthened by a little taint of superstition ; 
for surely, if the unknown had been addicted to 
witchcraft, this was a most propitious night for 
his vagaries. At length the old gentleman's phi- 
lanthropy predominated ; he approached the hovel, 
and, pushing open the door — for poverty has no 
occasion for locks and keys — beheld, by the light 
of the lantern, a scene that smote his generous 
heart to the core. 

On a miserable bed, with pallid and emaciated 
visage, and hollow eyes — in a room destitute 
of every convenience — without fire to warm 
or friend to console him, lay this helpless mor- 
tal, who had been so long the terror and wonder 
of the village. His dog was crouching on the 
scanty coverlet, and shivering with cold. My 
grandfather stepped softly and hesitatingly to the 
bedside, and accosted the forlorn sufferer in his 
usual-accents of kindness. The little man in 
black seemed recalled by the tones of compassion 
from the lethargy into which he had fallen ; for, 
though his heart was almost frozen, there was yet 
nne chord that answered to the call of the good 



408 SALMAGUNDI 

old man who bent over him ; the tones of sym- 
pathy, so novel to his ear, called back his wan- 
dering senses, and acted like a restorative to his 
solitary feelings. 

He raised his eyes, but they were vacant and 
haggard ; he put forth his hand, but it was cold ; 
he essayed to speak, but the sound died away in 
his throat ; he pointed to his mouth with an ex- 
pression of dreadful meaning, and, sad to relate, 
my grandfather understood that the harmless 
stranger, deserted by society, was perishing with 
hunger ! With the quick impulse of humanity, 
he dispatched the servant to the Hall for refresh- 
ment. A little warm nourishment renovated him 
for a short time, but not long ; it was evident his 
pilgrimage was drawing to a close, and he was 
about entering that peaceful asylum, where " the 
wicked cease from troubling.*' 

His tale of misery was short and quickly told ; 
infirmities had stolen upon him, heightened by the 
rigors of the season : he had taken to his bed, 
without strength to rise and ask for assistance — ■ 
'* and if I had," said he, in a tone of bitter de- 
spondency, "■ to whom should I have applied ? I 
have no friend that 1 know of in the world ! 
The villagers avoid me as somethinof loathsome 
and dangerous ; and here, in the midst of Chris- 
tians, should I have perished, without a fellow- 
being to soothe the last moments of existence, and 
close my dying eyes, had not the bowlings of 
my faithful dog excited your attention." 

He seemed deeply sensible of the kindness of 
my grandfather ; and at one time, as he looked 



AN EMBLEM OF BENEVOLENCE. 409 

up into his old benefactor's face, a solitary tear 
was observed to steal adown the parched furrows 
of his cheek. Poor outcast ! it was the last tear 
he shed ; but I warrant it was not the first by 
millions. My grandfather watched by him all 
night. Toward morning he gradually declined ; 
and, as the rising sini gleamed through the win- 
dow, he begged to be raised in his bed, that he 
might look at it for the last time. He contem- 
plated it for a moment, with a kind of religious 
enthusiasm, and his lips moved as if engaged in 
prayer. Tiie strange conjectures concerning him 
rushed on my grandfather's mind ; " he is an 
idolater," thought he, " and is worshipping the 
sun ! " He listened a moment, and blushed at 
his ovvn uncharitable suspicion ; he was only en- 
gaged in the pious devotions of a Christian. His 
simple orison being finished, the little man in 
black withdrew his eyes from the east, and, tak- 
ing my grandfather's hand in one of his, and 
making a motion witli the other toward the sun : 
"I love to contemplate it," said he ; *' 'tis an em- 
blem of the universal benevolence of a true 
Ciiristian ; and it is the most glorious work of 
Him, who is philanthropy itself!" My grand- 
fither blushed still deeper at his ungenerous sur- 
mises ; he had pitied the stranger at first, but 
now he revered him. He turned once more to 
regard him, but his countenance had undergone 
a change ; the holy enthusiasm that had lighted 
up each feature had given place to an expression 
0? mysterious import; a gleam of grandeur 
seemed to steal across his Gothic visage, and he 



41 SALMAGUNDI. 

appeared full of some mighty secret which he 
hesitated to impart. He raised the tattered night 
cap that had sunk almost over his eyes, and wav- 
ing his withered hand with a slow and feeble ex- 
pression of dignity — '"In me," said he, with 
laconic solemnity — '• in me you behold the last 
descendant of the renowned Linkum Fidelius ! " 
My grandfather gazed at him with reverence ; for 
though he had never heard of the illustrious per- 
sonage, thus pompously announced, yet there was 
a certain black-letter dignity in the name that 
peculiarly struck his fancy and commanded his 
respect. 

" You have been kind to me," continued the 
little man in black, after a momentary pause, 
*' and richly will I requite your kindness by 
making you heir to my treasures ! In yonder 
large deal box are the volumes of my illustrious 
ancestor, of which I alone am the fortunate pos- 
sessor. Inherit them, ponder over them, and be 
wise ! " He tjrew faint with the exertion he had 
made, and sunk back almost breathless on his 
pillow. His hand, whi(;h, inspired with the im- 
portance of his subject, he had raised to my 
grandfather's arm, slipped from its hold and fell 
over the side of the bed, and his faithful dog 
licked it, as if anxious to soothe the last moments 
of his dying master and testify his gratitude to 
the hand that had so often cherished him. The 
untaught caresses of the faithful animal were not 
lost upon his dying master ; he raised his languid 
eyes, turned them on the dog, then on my grand- 
father ; and having given this silent recommenda- 
tion — closed them for ever. 



THE LADIES. 411 

The remains of the little man in black, not- 
withstanding the objections of many pious peo- 
ple, were decently interred in the churchyard 
of the village ; and his spirit, harmless as the 
body it once animated, has never been known to 
molest a living being. My grandfather complied, 
as far as possible, with his last request ; he con- 
veyed tiie volumes of Linkum Fidelius to his 
library ; he pondered over them frequently ; but 
whether he grew wiser, the tradition doth not 
mention. This much is certain, that his kindness 
to the poor descendant of Fidelius was amply 
rewarded by the approbation of his own heart, 
and the devoted attachment of the old turnspit ; 
who, transferring his affection from his deceased 
master to his benefactor, became his constant 
attendant, and was father to a long line of runty 
curs that still flourish in the family. And thus 
was the Cockloft library first enriched by the in- 
valuable folios of the sage Linkum Fidelius. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 
KHAN, 

TO ASEM HACCHEM, PRIXCU'AL SU,\.VE-ORIVEK TO HIS 
HIGHNESS THE BASHAW OF TRIPOLI. 

THOUGH I am often disgusted, my good 
Asem, with the vices and absurdities of the 
men of this country, yet the women afford me a 
world of amusement. Their lively prattle is as 
diverting as the chattering of the red-tailed par- 



A12 SALMAGUNDI. 

rot ; nor can the green-headed monkey of Tira- 
andi equal them in whim and plajfuhiess. But, 
notwithstanding these valuable qualifications, I 
am sorry to observe they are not treated with 
half the attention bestowed on the before men- 
tioned animals. These infidels put their par- 
rots in cages and chain their monkeys ; but their 
women, instead of being carefnlly shut up in ha- 
rems and seraglios, are abandoned to the direc- 
tion of their own reason, and suffered to run 
about in perfect freedom, like other domestic 
animals. This comes, Asem, of treating their 
w^omen as rational beings, and allowinsr them 
souls. The consequence of tljis piteous neglect 
may easily be imagined ; they have degenerated 
into all their native wildness, are seldom to be 
caught at home, and, at an early age, take to the 
streets and highways, where they rove about 
in droves, giving ahnost as much annoyance to 
the peaceable people as the troops of wild dogs 
that infest our great cities, or the flights of locusts 
that sometimes spread famine and desolation over 
whole regions of fertility. 

This propensity to relapse into pristine wild- 
ness, convinces me of the untamable disposition 
of the sex, who may indeed be partially domesti- 
cated by a long coui-se of confinement and re- 
straint, but the moment they are restored to per- 
sonal freedom, become wild as the young par- 
tridge of this country, which, though scarcely 
half-hatched, will take to the fields and run about 
with the shell upon its back. 

Notwithstanding their wildness, however, they 



DOMESTIC OCCUPATIONS. 413 

are remarkably easy of access, and suffer them- 
selves to be approached at certain hours of the 
day, without any symptoms of appreliension ; and 
I have even happily succeeded in detecting them 
at their domestic occupations. One of the most 
important of these, consists in thumping vehe- 
mently on a kind of musical instrument, and pro- 
ducing a confused, hideous, and indefinable up- 
roar, which they call the description of a battle — 
a jest, no doubt, for they are wonderfully facetious 
at times, and make great practice of passing jokes 
upon strangers. Sometimes they employ them- 
selves in painting little caricatures of landscapes, 
wherein they display their singular drollery in 
bantering nature faii'ly out of countenance ; rep- 
resenting her tricked out in all the tawdry 
finery of copper skies, purple rivers, calico rocks, 
red grass, clouds that look like old clothes set 
adrift by the tempest, and foxy trees, whose 
melancholy foliage, drooping and curling most 
fantastically, reminds me of an undressed periwig 
that I have, now and then, seen hung on a stick 
in a barber's window. At other times, they em- 
ploy themselves in acquiring a smattering of lan- 
guages spoken by nations on the other side of the 
globe, as they find their own language not suffi- 
ciently copious to supply their constant demands, 
and express their multifarfous ideas. But their 
most important domestic avocation is, to embroider, 
on satin or muslin, flowers of a nondescript kind, 
in which the great art is to make them as unlike 
nature as possible — or to fasten little bits of 
silver, gold, tinsel and glass, on long strips of 



414 SALMAGUNDI. 

muslin, which they drag after them with much 
dip^nity whenever they go abroad — a fine lady, 
like a bird of paradise, being estimated by the 
length of her tail. 

But do not. my fi-iend, fall into the enormous 
error of supposing that the exercise of these arts 
is attended with any useful or profitable results ; 
believe me, thou couldst not indulge an idea more 
unjust and injurious; for it appears to be an es- 
tablished maxim arnono; the women of this coun- 
try, that a lady loses her dignity when she conde- 
scends to be useful ; and forfeits all rank in 
society the moment siie can be convicted of earn- 
ing a farthing. Their labors, therefore, are di- 
rected, not toward supplying their household, but 
in decking their persons, and — generous souls — 
they deck their persons, not so much to please 
themselves, as to gratify others, particularly stran- 
gers. I am confident thou wilt stare at this, my 
good Asera, accustomed as thou art to our eastern 
females, who shrink in blushing timidity even 
from the glance of^ lover, and are so chary of 
their favors, that they even seem fearful of lavish- 
ing their smiles too profusely on their husbands. 
Here, on the contrary, the stranger has the first 
place in female regard, and, so far do they carry 
their hospitality that I have seen a fine lady 
slight a dozen tried friends and real admirers, who 
lived in her smiles and made her happiness their 
study, merely to allure the vague and wandering 
glances of a stranger, who viewed her person with 
indifference, and treated her advances with con- 
tempt. By the whiskers of our sublime bashaw, 



DRESS. 415 

but this is highly flattering to a foreigner ! and 
thou mayest judge how particularly pleasing to 
one who is, like myself, so ardent an admirer of 
the sex. Far be it from me to condemn this ex- 
tniordinary manifestation of good-will — let their 
own countrymen look to that. 

Be not alarmed, I conjure thee, my dear Asem, 
lest I should be tempted, by these beautiful bar- 
barians, to break the faith I owe to the three-and- 
twenty wives, from whom my unhappy destiny 
has perhaps severed me forever. No, Asem, nei- 
ther tiuie, nor the bitter succession of misfortunes 
that pursue me, can shake from my heart the 
memory of former attachments. I listen with 
tranquil heart to the strumming and prattling of 
these fair sirens; their whimsical paintings touch 
not the tender chord of my affections ; and I 
would still defy their fascinations, though they 
trailed after them tails as long as the gorgeous 
trappings which are dragged at the heels of the 
holy camel of Mecca ; or as the tail of the great 
beast in our prophet's vision, which measured 
three hundred and forty -nine leagues, two miles, 
three furlongs, and a hand's breadth in longitude. 

The dress of these women is, if possible, more 
eccentric and whimsical than their deportment ; 
and they take an inordinate pride in certain or- 
naments which are probably derived from their 
savage progenitors. A woman of this country, 
dressed out for an exhibition, is loaded with as 
many ornaments as a Circassian slave when 
broufrht out for sale. Their heads are tricked 
out with little bits of horn or shell, cut into fan- 



416 SALMAGUNDI. 

tastic shapes, and they seem to emulate each other 
in the number of these singular baubles — like 
the women we have seen in our journeys to Alep- 
po, who cover their heads with the entire shell 
of a tortoise, and, thus equipped, are the envy of 
all their less fortunate acquaintance. They also 
decorate their necks and ears with coral, .gold 
chains, and glass beads, and load their fingers 
with a variety of rings ; though I must confess, 
I have never perceived that they wear any in 
their uoses — as has been affirmed by many trav- 
ellers. We have heard much of their painting 
themselves most hideously, and making use of 
bear's grease in great profusion ; but this, I sol- 
emnly assure thee, is a misrepresentation ; civi- 
lization, no doubt, having gradually extirpated 
these nauseous practices. It is true, I have seen 
two or three of these females, who had disguised 
their features with paint ; but then it was merely 
to give a tinge of red to their cheeks, and did not 
look very frightful ; and fis to ointment, they rarely 
use any now, except occasionally a little Grecian 
oil for their hair, wiiich gives it a glossy, greasy, 
and, they think, very comely appearance. The 
last mentioned class of females, I take it for 
granted, have been but lately caught, and still ro» 
t-ain strong traits of their original savage propen- 
sities. 

The most flagrant and inexcusable fiiult, how- 
ever, which I find in these lovely savages, is the 
shameless and abandoned exposure of their per- 
sons. Wilt thou not suspect me of exaggeration 
when I affirm — • wilt thou not blush for them, 



DE GUST IB US. 417 

most discreet Mussulman, when 1 declare to thee, 
that they are so lost to all sense of modesty, as to 
expose the whole of their faces, from their fore- 
head to the chin, and they even go abroad with 
their hands uncovered ! Monstrous indelicacy ! 

But what I am going to disclose will, doubt- 
less, appear to thee still more incredible. Tliough 
1 cannot forbear paying a tribute of admiration 
to the beautiful faces of these fair infidels, yet I 
must give it as my firm opinion that their persons 
are preposterously unseemly. In vain did I look 
around me, on my first landing, for those divine 
forms of redundant proportions, which answer to 
the true standard of Eastern beauty. Not a sin- 
gle fat fair one could I behold among the multi- 
tudes that thronged the streets ; the females that 
passed in review before me, tripping sportively 
along, resembled a procession of shadows, return- 
ing to their graves at the crowing of the cock. 

This meagreness I first ascribed to their ex- 
cessiv^e volubility ; for I have somewhere seen it 
advanced bv a learned doctor, that the sex were 
endowed with a peculiar activity of tongue, in or- 
der that they might practice talking as a healthful 
exercise, necessary to their confined and sedentary 
mode of life. This exercise, it was natural to 
suppose, would be carried to great excess in a 
logocracy. " Too true," thought I, " they have 
converted what was undoubtedly meant ns a benef- 
icent gift, into a noxious habit, that steals the 
flesh from their bones and the rose from their 
cheeks — they absolutely talk themselves thin ! " 
Judge, then, of my surprise when I was assured, 
27 



418 SALMAGUNDI. 

not Ions since, that this measrreness was consid- 
ered the perfection of personal beauty, and that 
many a lady starved herself, with all the obstinate 
perseverance of a pious dervise — into a fine fig- 
ure ! " Nay, more." said iny informer, " they 
will often sacrifice their healths in this ea«;er pur- 
suit of skeleton beauty, and drink vineoai', eat 
pickles, and smoke tobacco, to keep tliemselves 
within the scanty outlines of the fashions." 
Faugh ! Allah preserve me from such beauties, 
who contaminate their pure blood with noxious 
recipes — who impiously sacrifice the best gifts 
of Heaven, to a preposterous and mistaken van- 
ity ! Ere long I shall not be surprised to see 
them scarring their faces like the negroes of 
Congo, flattening their noses in imitation of the 
Hottentots, or, like the barbarians of Ab-al Timar, 
distorting their lips and ears out of all natural di- 
mensions. Since I received this information. T 
cannot contemplate a fine figure without thinking 
of a vinegar cruet ; nor look at a dashing^ belle 
without fancying her a pot of pickled cucumbers ! 
What a difference, my friend, between these 
shades and the plump beauties of Tripoli — what 
a contrast between an infidel fair one and my fa- 
vorite wife, Fatima, whom T bought by the hun- 
dred weight, and had trundled home in a wheel- 
barrow ! 

But enough for the present ; I am promised a 
faithful account of the arcana of a lady's toilette 
— a complete initiation into the arts, mysteries, 
spells, and potions ; in short, the whole chemical 
process by which she reduces herself down to the 



HOME THOUGHTS. 419 

most fashionable standard of insignificance ; to- 
gether with specimens of the strait-waistcoats, the 
lacings, the bandages, and the various ingenious 
instruments with which she puts nature to the 
rack, and tortures herself into a proper figure to 
be admired. 

Farewell, thou sweetest of slave-drivers ! The 
echoes that repeat to a lover's ear the song of his 
mistress, are not more soothino^ than tidings from 
those we love. Let thy answer to my letters be 
speedy ; and never, I pray thee, for a moment, 
cease to watch over the prosperity of my house, 
and the welfare of my beloved wives. Let them 
want for nothing, my friend ; but feed them plen- 
tifully on honey, boiled rice, and water-gruel ; so 
that when I return to the blessed land of my fa- 
thers, if that can ever be ! I may find tliem im- 
proved in size and loveliness, and sleek as the 
graceful elephants that range the green valley of 
Abimar. 

Ever thine, 

MUSTAPHA. 




NO. XIX. — THURSDAY, DEC. 31, 1807. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

AVING returned to town, and once 
more formally taken possession of my 
elbow-chair, it behooves me to discard 
the rural feelings, and the rural sentiments, in 
which I have for some time past indulged, and 
devote myself more exclusively to the edification 
of the town. As I feel at this moment a chival- 
ric spark of gallantry playing around my heart, 
and one of those dulcet emotions of cordiality, 
which an old bachelor will sometimes entertain 
toward the divine sex, I am determined to gratify 
the sentiment for once, and devote this number 
exclusivefy to the ladies. I would not, however, 
have our fair readers imagine that we wish to 
flatter ourselves into their good graces, devoutly 
as we adore them ! — and what true cavalier does 
not? — and heartily as we desire to flourish in 
the mild sunshine of their smiles, yet we scorn 
to insinuate ourselves into their favor ; unless it 
be as honest friends, sincere well-wishers, and 
disinterested advisers. If in the course of this 
number they find us rather prodigal of our enco- 
miums, they will have the modesty to ascribe it 
to the excess of their own merits ; if they find 



FASHIONABLE DANCING. 421 

U3 extremely indulgent to their faults, thej will 
impute it rather to the superabundance of our 
good nature, than to any servile and illiberal fear 
of giving offense. 

The following letter of Mustapha falls in ex- 
actly with the current of my purpose. As I 
have before mentioned that his letters are with- 
out dates, we were obliged to give them very ir- 
regularly, without any regard to chronological 
order. 

The present one appears to have been written 
not long after his arrival, and antecedent to sev- 
eral already published. It is more in the famil- 
iar and colloquial style than the others. Will 
Wizard declares he has translated it with fidelity, 
excepting that he has omitted several remarks on 
the waltz, which the honest Mussulman eulo- 
gizes with great enthusiasm, comparing it to 
certain voluptuous dances of the seraglio. Will 
regretted exceedingly, that the indelicacy of sev- 
eral of these observations compelled their total 
exclusion, as he wishes to give all possible en- 
couragement to this popular and amiable exhibi- 
tion. 



422 SALMAGUNDI. 



LETTER FROM MUSTAPHA RUB-A-DUB KELI 
KHAN, 

rO MULET HELIM AL, RAGGI, SURNAMED THE AGREEABLK 
RAGAMUFFIN. CHIEF MOUNTEBANK AND BUFFA-DANCER 
TO HIS HIGHNESS. 

THE numerous letters which I have written 
to our friend the slave driver, as well as 
those to thy kinsman the Snorer, and which, 
doubtless, were read to thee, honest Muley, have, 
in all probability, awakened thy curiosity to know 
further particulars concerning the manners of the 
barbarians, who hold me in such ignominious cap- 
tivity. I was lately at one of their public cere- 
monies, which, at first, perplexed me exceedingly 
as to its object ; but as the explanations of a 
friend have let me somewhat into the secret, and 
as it seems to bear no small analogy to thy pro- 
fession, a description of it may contribute to thy 
amusement, if not to thy instruction. 

A few days since, just as I had finished my 
coffee, and was perfuming my whiskers, prepara- 
tory to a morning walk, I was waited upon by 
an inhabitant of this place, a gay young infidel, 
who has of late cultivated my acquaintance. He 
presented me with a square bit of painted paste- 
board, which, he informed me, would entitle me 
to admittance to the City Assembly. Curious to 
know the meaning of a phrase which was en- 
tirely new to me, I requested an explanation ; 
when my friend informed me, that tlie assembly 
was a numerous concourse of young people of 



THE CITY ASSEMBLY, 423 

both sexes, who, on certain occasions, gathered 
together to dance about a large room with violent 
gesticulation, and try to outdress each other. 
" In short," said he, " if you wish to see the na- 
tives in all their glory, there's no place like the 
City Assembly ; so you must go there, and sport 
your whiskers." Though the matter of sporting 
my whiskers was considerably above my appre- 
hension, yet I now began, as I thought, to under- 
stand him. I had heard of the war dances of 
the natives, which are a kind of religious institu- 
tion, and had little doubt but that this must be a 
solemnity of the kind — upon a prodio;ious great 
scale. Anxious as I am to contemplate these 
strange people in every situation, I willingly ac- 
ceded to his proposal, and to be the more at ease, 
I determined to lay aside my Turkish dress, and 
appear in plain garments of the fashion of this 
country, as is my custom whenever I wish to 
minofle in a crowd without excitino;^ the attention 
of the gaping multitude. 

It was lonoj after the shades of nio-ht had fal- 
len before my friend appeared to conduct me to 
the assembly. " These infidels," thought I, 
" shroud themselves in mystery, and seek the 
aid of gloom and darkness, to heighten the so- 
lemnity of their pious orgies." Resolving to 
conduct myself with that decent respect, which 
every stranger owes to the customs of the land 
in which he sojourns, I chastised my features into 
an expression of sober reverence, and stretched 
ray face into a degree of longitude suitable to 
Uie ceremony I was about to witness. Spite of 



424 SALMAGUNDI. 

myself, I felt an emotion of awe stealing over my 
senses as I approached the majestic pile. My 
imagination pictured something similar to a de- 
scent into the cave of Dom-Daniel, where the nec- 
romancers of the East are taudit their infernal 
arts. I entered with the same gravity of de- 
meanor that I would have approached the holy 
temple at Mecca, and bowed my head three times 
as I passed the threshold. " Head of -the mighty 
Amrou ! " thought I, on being ushered into a 
splendid saloon, '' what a display is here ! surely 
I am transported to the mansions of the Houris, 
the elysium of the faithful 1 " — How tame ap- 
peared all the descriptions of enchanted palaces 
in our Arabian poetry! — wherever I turned my 
eyes, the quick glances of beauty dazzled my vis- 
ion and ravished my heart ; lovely virgins flut- 
tered by me, darting imperial looks of conquest, 
or beaming such smiles of invitation, as did Ga- 
briel when he beckoned our holy prophet to 
Heaven. Shall I own the weakness of thy 
friend, good Muley ? — while thus gazing on the 
enchanted scene before me, 1, for a moment, for- 
got my country ; and even the memory of my 
three-and-twenty wives faded from my heart ; my 
thoughts were bewildered and led astray by the 
charms of these bewitching savages, and I sunk, 
for a while, into that delicious state of mind, 
where the senses, all enchanted, and all striving 
for mastery, produce an endless variety of tumul- 
tuous, yet pleasing emotions. O Muley, never 
shall I again wonder that an infidel should prove a 
recreant to the single solitary wife allotted him, 



THE CITY ASSEMBLY. 425 

when, even thy friend, armed with all the pre- 
cepts of Mahomet, can so easily prove faithless 
to three-and-twenty. 

" Whither have you led me ? " said I, at length, 
to my companion, " and to whom do these beau- 
tiful creatures belong ? Certainly this must be 
the seraglio of the grand bashaw of the city, and 
a most happy bashaw must he be, to possess 
treasures which even his highness of Tripoli can- 
not parallel." 

" Have a care," cried my companion, " how 
you talk about seraglios, or you'll have all these 
gentle nymphs about your ears ; for seraglio is a 
word which, beyond all others, they abhor. Most 
of them," continued he, " have no lord and mas- 
ter, but come here to catch one — they're in the 
market, as we term it." 

"Ah, hah!" said I, exultingly, "then you 
really have a fair, or slave-market, such as we 
have in the East, where the faithful are provided 
with the choicest virgins of Georgia and Circas- 
sia? — by our glorious sun of Afric, but I should 
like to select some ten or a dozen wives from so 
lovely an assemblage ! Pray, what would you 
suppose they might be bought for ? " — 

Before I could receive an answer, my attention 
was attracted by two or three good-looking, mid- 
dle-sized men, who, being dressed in black, a color 
universally worn in this country by the muftis 
and dervises, I immediately concluded to be high- 
priests, and was confirmed in my original opinion 
that this was a leligious ceremony. These rev- 
erciiil personages are entitled managers, and en- 



426 SALMAGUNDI. 

joyed unlimited authority in the assemblies, being 
armed with swords, with which, I am told, they 
would infallibly put any lady to death, who in- 
fringed the laws of the temple. They walked 
round the room with great solemnity, and, with 
an air of profound importance and mystery, put 
a little piece of folded paper in each fair hand, 
which I concluded were reHsious talismans. One 
of them dropped on the floor, whereupon I slily 
put my foot on it, and, watching an opportunity, 
picked it up unobserved, and found it to contain 
some unintelligible words, and the mj-stic number 
9. What were its virtues I know not ; except 
that I put it in my pocket, and have hitherto 
been preserved from my fit of the lumbago, which 
I generally have about this season of the year, 
ever since I tumbled into the well of Zim-zim on 
my pilgrimage to Mecca. I inclose it to thee in 
this letter, presuming it to be particularly ser- 
viceable against the dangers of thy profession. 

Shortly after the distribution of these talis- 
mans, one of the high-priests stalked into the 
middle of the room with great majesty, and 
clapped his hands three times ; a loud explosion 
of music succeeded from a number of black, yel- 
low, and white musicians, perched in a kind of 
cage over the grand entrance. The company 
were thereupon thrown into great confusion and 
apparent consternation. They hurried to and 
fro about the room, and at length formed them- 
selves into little groups of eight persons, half 
male and half females; the music struck into 
something like harmony, and. in a moment, to ray 



THE DIVINITY. 427 

utter astonishment and dismay, tliey were all 
seized with what I concluded to be a paroxysm 
of religious phrenzy, tossing about their heads in 
a ludicrous style from side to side, and indulging 
in extravagant contortions of figure ; now throw- 
ing their heels into the air, and anon whirling 
round with the velocity of the eastern idolaters, 
who think they pay a grateful homage to the sun 
by imitating his motions. I expected every mo- 
ment to see them fall down in convulsions, foam 
at the mouth, and shriek with fancied inspiration. 
As usual, the women seemed most fervent in 
their religious exercises, and performed them 
with a melancholy expression of feature that was 
peculiarly touching ; but I was highly gratified 
by the exemplary conduct of several male devo- 
tees, who, though their gesticulations would inti- 
mate a wild merriment of the feelings, maintained 
throughout as inflexible a gravity of countenance 
as so many monkeys of the island of Borneo at 
their antics. 

" And pray," said I, " who is the divinity that 
presides in this splendid mosque ? " 

" The divinity ! — O, I understand — you 
mean the helle of the evening; we have a new 
one every season ; the one at present in fashion, 
is that lady you see yonder, dressed in white, 
with pink ribbons, and a crowd of adorers 
around her." 

" Truly," cried I, " this is the pleasantest deity 
I have encountered in the whole course of my 
travels — so familiar, so condescending, and so 
!ner)-y withal; why, her very worshippers take 
her by ihe hand, and whisper in her ear.' 



428 SALMAGUNDI. 

" My good Mussulman," replied my friend, with 
great gravity, '• I perceive you are completely iu 
an error concerning the intent of this ceremony. 
You are now in a place of public amusement, 
not of public worship; and the pretty looking 
young men you see making such violent and gro- 
tesque distortions, are merely indulging in our 
favorite amusement of dancins." 

" I cry your mercy," exclaimed I, " these then 
are the dancing men and women of the town, 
such as we have in our principal cities, who hire 
themselves out for the entertainment of the 
wealthy; but, pray, who pays them for this fa- 
tio;uinor exhibition ? " 

My friend regarded me for a moment with an 
air of whimsical perplexity, as if doubting 
whether I was in jest or earnest. " ' Sblood, 
man," cried he, " these are some of our greatest 
people, our fashionables, who are merely dancing 
here for amusement." 

Dancing for amusement ! think of that, Mu- 
ley ! — thou, whose greatest pleasure is to chew 
opium, smoke tobacco, loll on a couch, and doze 
thyself into the regions of the Houris ! — Dan- 
cing for amusement ! — shall I never cease having 
occasion to lauoh at the absurdities of these bar- 
barians, who are laborious in their recreations, 
and indolent only in their hours of business ? 
Dancing for amusement ! — the very idea makes 
my bones ache, and I never think of it without 
being obliged to apply my handkerchief to my 
forehead, and fan myself into some degree of 
coolness. 



HUMAN PUPPETS. 429 

" And pray," said I, when my astonishment 
had a little subsided, " do these musicians also 
toil for amusement, or are they confined to their 
cage, like birds, to sing for the gratification of 
others ? I should think the former was the case, 
from the animation with which they flourish their 
elbows." 

" Not so," replied my friend, " they are well 
paid, which is no jnore than just, for I assure you 
they are the most important personages in the 
room. The fiddler puts the whole assembly in 
motion, and directs their movements, like the 
master of a puppet-show, who sets all his paste- 
board gentry kicking by a jerk of his fingers. 
There now, look at that dapper little gentle- 
man yonder, who appears to be suffering the 
pangs of dislocation in every limb : he is the 
most expert puppet in the room, and performs, 
not so much for his own amusement, as for that 
of the bystanders." Just then, tlie little gentle- 
man, having finished one of his paroxysms of ac- 
tivity, seemed to be looking round for applause 
from the spectators. Feeling myself really much 
obliged to him for his exertions, I made him a 
low bow of thanks, but nobody followed my ex- 
ample, which I thought a singular instance of in- 
gratitude. 

Thou wilt perceive, friend Muley, that the 
dancino^ of these barbarians is totallv different 
from the science professed by thee in Tripoli ; 
the country, in fact, is afilicted by numerous epi- 
demical diseases, which travel from house to 
house, from city to city, with the regularity of a 



430 ISALMAGUNBI. 

caravan. Among these, the most formidable is 
this dancing mania, which prevails chiefly through- 
out the winter. It at first seized on a few peo- 
ple of fashion, and being indulged m moderation, 
was a cheerful exercise ; but in a little time, by 
quick advances, it infected all classes of the com- 
munity, and became a raging epidemic. The 
doctors immediately, as is their usual way, in- 
stead of devising a remedy, fell together by the 
ears, to decide whether it was native or imported, 
and the sticklers for the latter opinion traced it 
to a cargo of trumpery from France, as they had 
before hunted down the yellow fever to a bag of 
coffee from the West Indies. What makes this 
disease the more formidable is, that the patients 
seem infatuated with their malady, abandon them- 
selves to its unbounded ravages, and expose their 
persons to wintry storms and midnight airs — 
more fatal, in this capricious climate, than the 
withering Simoom blast of the desert. 

I know not whether it is a sight most whimsi- 
cal or melancholy to witness a fit of this dancing 
malady. The lady hops up to the gentleman, 
who stands at the distance of about three paces, 
and then capers back again to her place ; the 
gentleman, of course, does the same ; then they 
skip one way, then they jump another ; then they 
turn their backs to each other ; then they seize 
each other and shake hands ; then they whirl 
round, and throw themselves into a thousand gro- 
tesque and ridiculous attitudes — sometimes on 
one leg, sometimes on the other, and sometimes 
on no leg at all — and this they call exhibiting 



EFFECTS OF DANCING. 431 

the graces ! By the nineteen thousand capers of 
the great mountebank of Damascus, but these 
graces must be something like the crooked-back 
dwarf, Shabrac, who is sometimes permitted to 
amuse His Highness by imitating the tricks of a 
monkey. These fits continue at short intervals 
for four or five hours, till at last the lady is led 
off, faint, languid, exhausted, and panting, to her 
carriage ; rattles home ; passes a night of feverish 
restlessness, cold perspirations, and troubled sleep ; 
rises late next morning, if she rises at all, is ner- 
vous, petulant, or a prey to languid indifference 
all day — a mere household spectre, neither giv- 
ing nor receiving enjoyment — in the evening 
hurries to another dance ; receives an unnatural 
exhilaration from the lights, the music, the crowd, 
and the unmeaning bustle ; flutters, sparkles, 
and blooms for a while until, the transient delir- 
ium being past, the infatuated maid droops and 
languishes into apathy again ; is again led off to 
her carriage, and the next morning rises to go 
through exactly the same joyless routine. 

And yet, wilt thou believe it, my dear Raggi, 
these are rational beings — nay, more, their coun- 
trymen would fain persuade me they have souls ! 
Is it not a thousand times to be lamented that 
beings, endowed with charms that might warm 
even the frigid heart of a dervise — with social 
and endearing powers that would render them the 
joy and pride of tlie harem — should surrender 
themselves to a habit of heartless dissipation, 
which preys imperceptibly on the roses of the 
cheek — which robs the eye of its lustre, the 



432 SALMAGUNDI. 

mouth of its dimpled smile, the spirits of their 
cheerful hilarity, and the limbs of their elastic 
vigor — which hurries them off in the spring-time 
of existence ; or, if they survive, yields to the 
arms of a youthful bridegroom a frame wrecked 
in the storms of dissipation, and struggling with 
premature infirmity. Alas, Muley ! may I not 
ascribe to this cause, the number of little old 
women I meet with in this country from the age 
of eighteen to eight-and-twenty. 

In sauntering down the room, my attention 
was attracted by a smoky painting, which, on 
nearer examination, I found consisted of two fe- 
male figures crowning a bust with a wreath of lau- 
rel. " This, I suppose," cried I, " was some 
famous dancer in his time ? " 

" 0, no," replied my friend, " he was only a 
general." 

" Good ; but then he must have been great at 
a cotillon, or expert at a fiddlestick, or why is his 
memorial here ? " 

" Quite the contrary," answered my compan- 
ion, " history makes no mention of his ever hav- 
ing flourished a fiddlestick, or figured in n single 
dance. You have, no doubt, heard of him ; he 
was the illustrious Washington, the father and 
deliverer of his country ; and as our nation is re- 
markable for gratitude to great men, it always 
does honor to their memory, by placing their 
monuments over the doors of taverns, or in the 
corners of dancing rooms." 

From thence my friend and I strolled into a 
Bmall apartment adjoining the grand saloon, 



STUDYING HIEROGLYPHICS. 433 

where I beheld a number of grave-looking per- 
sons, with venerable gray heads, but without 
beards, which I thought very unbecoming, seated 
around a table, studying hieroglyphics. I ap- 
proached them with reverence, as so many magi, 
or learned men, endeavoring to expound the mys- 
teries of Egyptian science. Several of them 
threw down money, which I supposed was a re- 
ward proposed for some great discovery, when 
presently one of them spread his hieroglyphics on 
the table and exclaimed triumphantly, "■ Two bul- 
lets and a braggCr ! " and swept all the money into 
his pocket. He has discovered a key to the 
hieroglyphics, thought I ; happy mortal ! no doubt 
his name will be immortalized. Willing, how- 
ever, to be satisfied, I looked round on vay com- 
panion with an inquiring eye. He understood 
me, and informed me that these were a company 
of friends, who had met together to win each 
other's money, and be agreeable. "Is that all ? " 
exclaimed I, " why, then, I pray you, make way, 
and let me escape from this temple of abomina- 
tions, or who knows but these people, who meet 
together to toil, worry, and fatigue themselves to 
death, and give it the name of pleasure — and 
who win each other's money by way of being 
agreeable — may some one of them take a liking 
to me, and pick my pocket, or break my head in 
a paroxysm of hearty good-will ! " 

Thy friend, 

MUSTAPHA. 

28 



434 SALMAGUNDI. 



BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

' Nunc est bibendurn nunc pede libero 
Pulsanda tell us." Hor. 

" Now is the time for wine and myrthful sportes, 
For daunce, and song, and disportes of sych sortes." 

Linh. Fid. 

THE winter campaign has opened. Fashion 
has summoned lier nvmierous legions at the 
sound of trumpet, tambourine, and drum, and all 
the harmonious minstrelsy of the orchestra, to 
hasten from the dull, silent, and insipid glades and 
groves, where they have vegetated during the 
summer, recovering from tlie ravages of the last 
winter's campaign. Our fair ones have hurried 
to town, eager to pay their devotions to the 
tutelary deity, and to make an offering at her 
shrine of the few pale and transient roses they 
gathered in their healthful retreat. The fiddler 
rosins his bow, the card-table devotee is shuffling 
her pack ; tlie young ladies are industriously 
spangling muslins, and the tea-party heroes are 
airing their chapeaux bras and pea-blossom 
breeches, to prepare for figuring in the gay circle 
of smiles, and graces, and beauty. Now the fine 
lady forgets her country friends, in the hurry of 
fashionable engagements, or receives the simple 
intruder, who has foolishly accepted her thousand 
pressing invitations, with such politeness that the 
poor soul determines never to come again. Now 
the gay buck, who erst figured at Ballston, and 
quaffed the pure spring, exchanges the sparkling 



C ORRESP ON DEN CE. 435 

water for still more sparkling champagne, and 
deserts the nymph of the fountain, to enlist under 
the standard of jolly Bacchus. In short, now is 
the important time of the year - in which to 
harangue the bon-ton reader, and, like some 
ancient hero in front of the battle, to spirit him 
up to deeds of noble daring, or still more noble 
suffering, ni the ranks of fashionable warfare. 

Such, indeed, has been my intention, but the 
number of cases which have lately come before 
me, and the variety of complaints 1 have received 
from a crowd of honest and well-meaning cor- 
respondents, call for more immediate attention. 
A host of appeals, petitions, and letters of advice 
are now before me, and I believe the shortest 
way to satisfy my petitioners, memorialists, and 
advisers, will be to publish their letters, as I 
suspect the object of most of them is merely to 
get into print. 

to anthony evergreen gent. 
Sir: — 

As you appear to have taken to yourself the 
trouble of meddling in the concerns of the beau 
monde, I take the liberty of appealing to you on 
a subject which, though considered merely as a 
very good joke, has occasioned me great vexation 
and expense. You must know I pride myself 
on being very useful to the ladies — that is, I 
take boxes for them at the theatre, go shopping 
with them, supply them with bouquets, and fur- 
nish them with novels from the circulating 
library. In consequence of these attentions 1 am 



43 G SAL MA G VXD I. 

become a great favorite, and there is seldom a 
party eoiog on in the city without my h-avins^ an 
inritaiiou. The grievance I have to mention, is 
the exchange erf hats which takes place on these 
occasions — for, to speak my mind freely, tliere 
are certain young gentlemen who seem to con- 
sider fashionable parties as mere places to barter 
old clothes : and. I am informed, that a number 
of them manage, by this great system of exchange, 
to keep their crowns decently covered without 
their hatter suffering in the least by it. 

It was but lately that I went to a private ball 
with a new hat, and on returning in the latter 
part of the evening, and asking tor it, the scoun- 
drel of a servant, with a broad grin, informed me, 
that the new hats had been dealt out half an hour 
since, and they were then on the third quality, 
and I was in the end obhged to borrow a young 
lady's beaver rather than go home with any of the 
ragcred remnants that were left, 

Xow, I would wish to know if there is no pos- 
sibility of having these offenders punished by law ; 
and whether it would not be advisable for ladies 
to mention in their cards of invitation, as a post- 
sonpt. '•stealing of hats and shawls positively pro- 
hibited." At any rate, I would thank you. Mr. 
Evergreen, to discountenance the thing totally, by 
publishing in your paper that stealing a hat is no 
joke. Your humble servant, 

Walter Withers. 

My correspondent is informed, that the police 
have determined to take this matter into con- 



^V ACCIDENT. 431 

nderstioD, and ha^e set apart Satnrdaj nomiiiga 
for the cosmizaoce of fawbionaMe larcenies. 



Mb- EvZEGREEJf: 

SlK — Do TOO think a married woman maj 
lawfollj pat her husband right in a story, before 
strangers, when she knows him to be in the 
wrong ; and can anything aaihorize a wife in the 
exdamatioii of — ~ Lord, m v dear, how can voa 
say so ! " Mabgaeet TiXiOX. 

Deab Axthoxt : — 

Goin? do^^rn Broad Wciv this monm^ in a 
^reat harry, I ran full against an object wluch at 
firs; pat me to a prodigious nooplns. Obeerfing 
it to be dressed in a man's hat. a cloth OTercoat, 
and spatterdashes. T framed my apology accord- 
in^lv. exclaiming. ~ My dear sir. I ask ten thou- 
sand pardons — I assure you. sir. it was entirely 
accidental — pray excuse me. sir." etc At every 
one of these excuses, the thing answered me with 
a downright laugh : at which I was not a little 
surprised. imtiL on resorting to mj pocket-gbss. I 
discovered that it was do other than mj old 
acquaintaiM?e. Oarinda TroDopL I nerw was 
more chagrined in my life ; for. being an old 
bachelor, I like to i^>pear as yoong as possible, 
and am always boasting of the goodness oi my 
eyes- I beg of yttn. Mr. Evergreen, if yon have 
any feeling tor your eoutemporuries. to discourage 
this hermaphro«lite mode of dress : for really, if 
the &shion take, we poor bachelors will be uttoly 



438 SALMAGUNDI. 

at a loss to distinguish a woman from a man. 
Pray let me know your opinion, sir, whether a 
lady who wears a man's hat and spatterdashes 
before marriage, may not be apt to usurp some 
other article of his dress afterward. 
Your humble servant, 

Roderick Worry. 

Dear Mr. Eyergreex : — 

The other night, at Richard the Third, I sat 
behind three gentlemen who talked very loud on 
the subject of Richard's wooing Lady Ann 
directly in the face of his crimes against that 
lady. One of them declared such an unnatural 
scene would be hooted at in China. Pray, sir, 
w^as that Mr. Wizard ? 

Selina Badger. 

P. S. The gentleman I allude to had a pocket- 
glass, and wore his hair fastened behind by a 
tortoise-shell comb, with two teeth wanting. 

Mr. Evergrin : — 

Sir — Beincr a little curious in the affairs of 
the toilette, I was much interested by the sage 
Mustapha's remarks, in your last number, con- 
cerning the art of manufacturing a modern fine 
lady. I would have you caution your fair 
readers, however, to be very careful in the 
management of their machinery, as a deplorable 
accident happened, last assembly, in consequence 
of the architecture of a lady's figure not being 
sufficiently strong. In the middle of one of the 



A LADTS ARCHITECTURE. 439 

cotillons, the company was suddenly alarmed by a 
tremendous crash at the lower end of the room ; 
and on crowding to the place, discovered that it 
was a fine figure which had unfortunately broken 
down from two great exertion in a pigeon wing. 
By great good luck I secured the corset, which 1 
carried home in triumph ; and the next morning 
had it pubHcly dissected, and a lecture read on it 
at Surgeon's Hall. I have since commenced a 
dissertation on the subject, in which I shall treat 
of the superiority of those figures manufactured by 
steel, stap-tape, and whale-bone, to those formed 
by Dame Nature. I shall show clearly that the 
Venus de Medicis has no pretension to beauty of 
form, as she never wore stays, and her waist is in 
exact proportion to the rest of her body. I shall 
inquire into the mysteries of compression, and how 
tight a figure can be laced without danger of 
fainting, and whether it would not be advisable 
for a lady, when dressing for a ball, to be attended 
by the family physician, as culprits are when 
tortured on the rack, to know how much more 
nature will endure. I shall prove that ladies 
have discovered the secret of that notorious jug- 
gler, who offered to squeeze himself into a quart 
bottle ; and I shall demonstrate, to the satisfaction 
of every fashionable reader, that there is a certain 
degree of heroism in purchasing a preposterously 
slender waist at the expense of an old age of* 
decrepitude and rheumatics. This dissertation 
shall be published, as soon as finished, and dis- 
tributed gratis among boarding-school madams, 
and all worthy matrons who are ambitious that 



440 SAL MA G rXD /. 

their daughters should sir straight, move like 
clock-work and ~ do credit to their bringing op.'' 
In the mean time, I have hun^ up the skeleton of 
the corset in the museum beside a dissected wea- 
sel and a stuffed alligator, where it mav be 
inspected by all those naturalists who are tbnd of 
studying the *• human form dirine.^ 

Yours, etc 

JrLIA>' COGXOUS. 

P. S. Bv accurate calculation I find it is dan- 
gerous for a fine figure, when full dressed, to 
pronounce a word of more than three svllabies. 
Fiue Figure, if in love, may indulge in a gentle 
sigh ; but a sob is hazardous. Fine Figure may 
smile with safety, may even venture as far as a 
giggle ; but must never risk a loud laugh. Figure 
must never play the part of a confidante ; as at a 
tea-party, some fine evenings since, a young lady 
whose unparalleled impalpability of waist was the 
envy of the drawing-room, burst with an impor- 
tant secret, and had three ribs — of her corset ■ — 
fractured on the spot. 

Me- Evi:egree>- : — 

Sib — I am one of those industrious gemmen 
who labor hard to obtain currency in the fashion- 
able world. I have went to great expense in 
little boots, short vests and long breeches ; my 
coat is regularly imported, per stage, from Phila- 
delphia, duly insured against all risks, and my 
boots are smuggled from Bond Street. I have 
lounged in Broadway with one of the most 



NOTORIETY. 441 

crooked walking-sticks I could procure, and have 
sported a pair of salmon-colored small clothes, 
and flame-colored stockings, at everv concert and 
ball to which I could purchase admission. Being 
affeared that 1 might possibly appear to less ad- 
vantage as a pedesterian, in consequence of my 
being rather short and a Iktle bainly, I have lately 
hired a tall horse with croppeii ears and a cocked 
tail, on which 1 have joined the cavalcade of 
pretty gemmen, who exhibit bright stirrups every 
fine morning in Broadway, and take a canter of 
two miles per day. at the rate of three hundred 
dollars per annum. But, sir, all this expense has 
been laid oat in vain, for I can scarcely get a 
partner at an assembly, or an invitation to a tea- 
party. Pray. sir. inform me what more I can do 
to acquire admission into the true stylish circles, 
and whether it would not be advisable to charter 
a curricle for a month, and have my cipher put on 
it, as is done by certain dashers of my acquain- 
tance. Yours to serve, 

MaT.VQLIQ DUBaTEK. 



TEA. 

FEOil XKE MILL OF PCfDAB COCKLOFT, ESQ. 

dmd earmesSy raxmaumded to tie aSemtiom of Miideru of a 
certain agt. 

OLD time, my dear girls, is a knave who in truth 
From the fairest of beauties will pilfer their 
youth; 



442 SALMAGUNDL 

Who, by constant attention and wily deceit, 
Forever is coaxing some grace to retreat ; 
And, like crafty seducer, with subtle approach, 
The further indulged, will still further encroach. 
Since this " thief of the world " has made otF with 

your bloom, 
And left you some score of stale years in its 

room — 
Has depriv'd you of all those gay dreams, that 

would dance 
In your brains at fifteen, and your bosoms en- 
trance ; 
And has forced you almost to renounce, in despair, 
The hope of a husband's affection and care — 
Since such is the case, and a case rather hard ! 
Permit one who holds you in special regard, 
To furnish such hints in your loveless estate 
As may shelter your names from distraction and 

hate. 
Too often our maidens grow aged, I ween, 
Indulge to excess in the workings of spleen ; 
And at times, when annoy'd by the slights of man- 
kind. 
Work off their resentment — by speaking their 

mind : 
Assemble together in snuff-taking clan. 
And hold round the tea-urn a solemn divan. 
A convention of tattle — a tea-party hight, 
Which, like meeting of witches, is brew'd up at 

night. 
Where each matron arrives, fraught with tales 

of surprise, 
With knowing suspicion and doubtful surmise ; 



TEA: A POEM. 443 

Like the broomstick-whirl'd hags that appear in 

Macbeth, 
Each bearing some relic of venom or death, 
" To stir up the toil and to double the trouble, 
That fire may burn, and that cauldron may bub- 
ble." 
When the party commences, all starch'd and 
all glum. 
They talk of the weather, their corns, or sit mum : 
They will tell you of cambric, of ribbons, of lace. 
How cheap they were sold — and will name you 

the place. 
They discourse of their colds, and they hem and 

they cough. 
And complain of their servants to pass the time 

off; 
Or list to the tale of some doting mamma. 
How her ten weeks old baby will laugh and say 
taa! 
But tea, that enlivener of wit and of soul — 
More loquacious by far than the draughts of the 

bowl, 
Soon unloosens the tongue and enlivens the mind, 
And enlightens their eyes to the faults of man- 
kind. 
'Twas thus with the Pythia, who served at the 
fount 
That flow'd near the far-famed Parnassian mount, 
While the steam was inhal'd of the sulphuric 

spring. 
Her vision expanded, her fancy took wing : — 
By its aid she pronounced the oracular will 
That Apollo commanded his sons to fulfill. 



444 SALMAGUNDI. 

But alas ! the sad vestal, performing the rite, 
Appeared like a demon — terrific to sight.. 

E'en the priests of Apollo averted their eyes, 
And the temple of Delphi resounded her cries. 
But quitting the nymph of the tripod of yore, 
We return to the dames of the tea-pot once more. 
In harmless chit-chat an acquaintance they 
roast, 
And serve up a friend, as they serve up a toast ; 
Some gentle faux pas, or some female mistake. 
Is like sweetmeats delicious, or relished as cake ; 
A bit of broad scandal is like a dry crust, 
It would stick in the throat, so they butter it first 
With a little affected good-nature, and cry 
" Nobody regrets the thing deeper than 1." 
Our young ladies nibble a good name in play 
As for pastime they nibble a biscuit away : 
While with shrugs and surmises, the toothless old 

dame, 
As she mumbles a crust she will mumble a name. 
And as the fell sisters astonished the Scot, 
In predicting of Banquo's descendants the lot, 
Making shadows of kings, amid flashes of light 
To appear in array and to frown in his sight, 
So they conjure up spectres all hideous in hue. 
Which, as shades of their neighbors, are passed 
in review. 
The wives of our cits of inferior degree. 
Will soak up repute in a little bohea ; 
The potion is vulgar, and vulgar the slang 
With which on their neighbors' defects they ha- 
rangue ; 
But the scandal improves, a refinement in wrong; 



REPUTATIONS AND TEA. 445 

As our matrons are richer and rise to souchonor. 
With hyson — a beverage that's still more refin'd, 
Our ladies of fashion enliven their mind, 
And by nods, innuendoes, and hints, and what 

not, 
Reputations and tea send together to pot. 
While madam in cambrics and laces array 'd 
With her plate and her liveries in splendid pa- 
rade, 
Will drink in imperial a friend at a sup, 
Or in gunpowder blow them by dozens all up. 
Ah me! how I groan when with full swelling sail 
Wafted stately along by the favoring gale, 
A China ship proudly arrives in our bay, 
Displaying her streamers and blazing away, 
O ! more fell to our port, is the cargo she bears, 
Than grenadoes, torpedoes, or warlike affairs : 
Each chest is a bombshell thrown into our town 
To shatter repute and bring character down. 
Ye Samquas, ye Chinquas, ye Chouquas, so 

free, 
Who discharge on our coast your cursed quan- 

tums of tea, 
O think, as ye waft the sad weed from your 

strand, 
Of the plagues and vexations ye deal to our 

land. 
As the Upas' dread breath, o'er the plain where it 

flies, 
Empoisons and blasts each green blade that may 

rise, 
So wherever the leaves of your shrubs find their 

way, 



446 SALMAGUNDI. 

The social affections soon suffer decay : 

Like to Java's drear waste they embarren the 
heart, 

Till the blossoms of love and of friendship de- 
part. 
Ah, ladies, and was it by heaven design'd, 

That ye should be merciful, loving and kind ? 

Did it form you like angels, and send you below 

To prophesy peace — to bid charity flow ? 

And have ye just left your primeval estate, 

And wandered so widely — so strangely of late ? 

Alas ! the sad cause I too plainly can see — 

These evils have all come upon you through tea ? 

Cursed weed, that can make our faint spirits 
resign 

The character mild of their mission divine ; 

That can blot from their bosoms that tenderness 
true, 

Which from female to female forever is due ! 

O how nice is the texture — how fragile the 
frame 

Of that delicate blossom, a female's fair fame ! 

'Tis the sensitive plant, it recoils from the breath 

And shrinks from the touch as if pregnant with 
death. 

How often, how often, has innocence sigh'd ; 

Has beauty been reft of its honor — its pride ; 

Has virtue, though pure fis an angel of light, 

Been painted as dark as a demon of night : 

All offer'd up victims, an auto de fe, 

At the gloomy cabals — the dark orgies of tea ! 
If I, in tlie remnant that's left me of life, 

Am to suffer the torments of slanderous strife, 



TEA-PARTY CLACK. 



447 



Let me fall, I implore, in the slang-whangers 

claw, 
Where the evil is open, and subject to law. 
Not nibbled, and mumbled, and put to the rack, 
By the sly underminings of tea-party clack : 
Condemn me, ye gods, to a newspaper roasting, 
But spare me ! O, spare me, a tea- table toast- 

ing! 





NO. XX. — MONDAY, JANUARY 25, 1808. 
FROM MY ELBOW-CHAIR. 

** Extremum hunc mihi concede laborem." — Vii'g. 
" Soft you, a word or two before we part." 

IN this season of festivity, when the gate 
of time swings open on its hinges, and 
an honest rosy-faced New Year comes 
waddling in, like a jolly fat-sided alderman, loaded 
with good wishes, good humor, and minced pies, 
— at this joyous era it has been the custom, from 
time immemorial, in this ancient and respectable 
city, for periodical writers, from reverend, grave, 
and potent essayists like ourselves, down to the 
humble but industrious editors of magazines, re- 
views, and newspape' 3, to tcnd-^r their subscribers 
the compliments of the season ; and when they 
have slily thawed their hearts with a little of the 
sunshine of flattery, to conclude by delicately 
dunning them for their arrears of subscription 
mone}'. In like manner the caniers of newspa- 
pers, who undoubtedly belong to the ancient and 
honorable order of literati, do regularly at the 
commencement of the year, salute their patrons 
with abundance of excellent advice, conveyed ia 
exceedingly good poetry, for which the aforesaid 



NEW YEAR CIVILITIES. 449 

good-natured patrons are well pleased to pay them 
exactly twenty- five cents. In vvalking the streets 
I am every day saluted with good wishes from old 
gray-headed negroes, whom I never recollect to 
have seen before ; and it was but a few days ago, 
that I was called to receive the compliments of 
an ugly old woman, who last spring was em- 
ployed by Mrs. Cockloft to whitewash my room 
and put things in order ; a phrase which, if 
rightly understood, means little else than huddling 
everything into holes and corners, so that if I 
want to find any particular article, it is, in the 
language of a humble but expressive saying — 
" looking for a needle in a haystack." Not rec- 
ognizing my visitor, I demanded by what au- 
thority she wished me a " Happy New Year ! '' 
Her claim was one of the weakest she could 
have urged, for I have an innate and mortal 
antipathy to this custom of putting things to 
rights ; so giving the old witch a pistareen, I 
desired her forthwith to mount her broomstick, 
and ride off as fast as possible. 

Of all the various ranks of society, the bakers 
alone, to their immortal honor be it recorded, de- 
part from this practice of making a market of 
congratulations ; and in addition to always allow- 
ing thirteen to the dozen, do with great liberality, 
instead of drawing on the purses of their custom- 
ers at the New Year, present them with divers 
large, fair, spiced cakes ; which, like the shield 
of Achilles, or an Egyptian obelisk, are adorned 

with figures of a variety of strange animals, that, 
29 



450 SALMAGUNDI. 

in their conformation, out-raarvel all the wild 
wonders of nature. 

This honest gray-beard custom of setting apart 
a certain portion of this good-for-nothing exist- 
ence for the purposes of cordiality, social merri- 
ment, and good-cheer, is one of the inestimable 
relics handed down to us from our worthy Dutch 
ancestors. In perusing one of the manuscripts 
from my worthy grandfather's mahogany chest 
of drawers, I find the New Year was celebrated 
with great festivity during that golden age of our 
city, when the reins of government were held by 
the renowned Rip Van Dam, who always did 
honor to the season by seeing out the old year ; 
a ceremony which consisted in plying his guests 
with bumpers, until not one of them was capable 
of seeing. " Truly," observes my grandfather, 
who was generally of these parties, — " Truly, 
he was a most stately and magnificent burgomas- 
ter ! inasmuch, as he did right lustily carouse it 
with his friends about New Year ; roasting huge 
quantities of turkeys ; baking innumerable minced 
pies ; and smacking the lips of all fair ladies the 
which he did meet, with such sturdy emphasis that 
the same might ha 'e been heard the distance of 
a stone's throw." In his days, according to my 
grandfather, first were invented these notable cakes, 
bight new-year-cookies, which originally were 
impressed on one side with the honest burly 
countenance of the illustrious Rip ; and on the 
other with that of the noted St. Nicholas, vulgarly 
called Santa Claus, of all the saints of the calen- 
dar the most venerated by true Hollanders and 



NEW YEAR FESTIVITY. 451 

their unsophisticated descendants. These cakes 
are to this time given on the first of January to 
all visitors, togetlier with a glass of cherry- 
bounce, or raspberry-brandy. It is with great 
regret, however, I observe that the simplicity of 
this venerable usage has been much violated by 
modern pretenders to style, and our respectable 
new - year - cookies and cherry - bounce elbowed 
aside by plum-cake and outlandish liqueurs, in 
the same way that our worthy old Dutch families 
are out-dazzled by modern upstarts and mushroom 
cockneys. 

In addition to this divine origin of New Year 
festivity, there is something exquisitely grateful, 
to a good-natured mind, in seeing every face 
dressed in smiles ; in hearing the oft-repeated 
salutations that flow spontaneously from the heart 
to the lips ; in beholding the poor, for once, enjoy- 
ing the smiles of plenty, and forgetting the cares 
which press hard upon them, in the jovial revelry 
of the feelings ; the young children, decked out 
in their Sunday clothes, and freed from their 
only cares, the cares of the school, tripping through 
the streets on errands of pleasure ; and even the 
very negroes, those holiday-loving rogues, gor- 
geously aiTayed in cast-off finery, collected in 
juntos, at corners, displaying their white teeth, and 
making the welkin ring with bursts of laughter 
loud enough to crack even the icy cheek of old 
winter. There is something so pleasant in all 
this, that I confess it would give me real pain, to 
behold the frigid influence of modern style cheat- 
ing us of this jubilee of the heart; and convert- 



452 SALAfAGUNDI. 

ing it, as it does every other article of social inter- 
course, into an idle and unmeaning ceremony. 
'Tis the annual festival of good-humor ; it comes 
in the dead of winter, when nature is without a 
charm, wlien our pleasures are contracted to the 
fireside, and when everything that unlocks the 
icy fetters of the heart, and sets the genial current 
flovving, should be cherished, as a stray lamb 
found in the wilderness; or a flower blooming 
among thorns and briers. 

Animated by these sentiments, it is with pe- 
culiar satisfaction I perceived that the last New 
Year was kept with more than ordinary enthusiasm. 
It seemed as if the good old times had rolled 
back again, and brought with them all the honest, 
unceremonious intercourse of those golden days, 
when people were more open and sincere, more 
moral and more hospitable than now ; when every 
object carried about it a charm which the hand 
of time has stolen away, or turned to a deformity ; 
when the women were more simple, more domestic, 
more lovely, and more true ; and when even the 
sun, like a hearty old blade as he is, shone with 
a genial lustre unknown in these degenerate 
days, — in short, those foiry times when I was a 
madcap boy, crowding every enjoyment into the 
present moment ; making of the past an oblivion ; 
of the future a heaven ; and careless of all that 
was " Over the hills and far away." Only one 
thing was wanting to make every part of the 
celebration accord with its ancient simplicity. 
The ladies, who — I write it with the most pier- 
cing regret — are generally at the head of all 



COMPLIMENTS OF THE SEASON. 453 

domestic innovations, most fastidiously refused 
that mark of good-will, that cliaste and holy 
sahite which was so fashionable in the happy 
days of Governor Rip and the patriarchs. Even 
the Miss Cocklofts, who belong to a family that 
is ihe last intrenchment beliind which the manners 
of the good old school have retired, made violent 
opposition ; and whenever a gentleman entered 
tiie room, immediately put themselves in a posture 
of defense. This, Will Wizard, with his usual 
i^hrewdn( ss, insists was only to give the visitor a 
hint that they expected an attack ; and declares 
he lias uniformly observed, that the resistance of 
those ladies, who make the greatest noise and 
bustle, is most easily overcome. Tiiis sad in- 
novation originated with my good aunt Charity, 
wlio was as airant a tabby as ever wore whiskers ; 
and I am not a little afflicted to find that she has 
found so many followers, even among the young 
and beautiful. 

In compliance with an ancient and venerable 
custom, sanctioned by time and our ancestors, and 
more especially by my own inclinations, I will 
take this opportunity to salute my readers with as 
many good wishes as I can possibly spare ; for, in 
truth, I have been so prodigal of late, that I have 
but few remaining. I should have offered my 
congratulations sooner ; but, to be candid, having 
made the last New Year's campaign, according to 
custom, under Cousin Christopher, in which I 
have seen some pretty hard service, my head has 
been somewhat out of order of late, and my 
intellects rather cloudy for clear writing. Besides, 



454 SALMAGUNDI. 

[ may allefre as another reason, that I have de- 
ferred my greetings until this day, which is ex- 
actly one year since we introduced ourselves to 
the public ; and surely periodical writers have the 
same right of datino: from the commencement of 
their works, that monarchs have from the time of 
their coronation, or our mo-<t puissant republic 
from the declaration of its independence. 

These ^ood wishes are warmed into more than 
usual benevolence by the thought that I am now, 
perhaps, addressing my old friends for the last 
time. That we should thns cut off our work in 
the very vigor of its existence, may excite some 
little matter of wonder in this enlightened com- 
munity. Now, though we could give a variety 
of good reasons for so doing, yet it would be an 
ill-natured act to deprive the public of such an 
admirable opportunity to indulge in their favorite 
amusement of conjecture ; so we generously leave 
them to flounder in the smooth ocean of glorious 
uncertainty. Besides, we have ever considered 
it as beneath persons of our dignity to account 
for our movements or caprices ; thank heaven, we 
are not like the unhappy i-ulers of this enlightened 
land, accountable to the mob for our actions, or 
dependent on their smiles for support ! — this 
much, however, we will say, it is not for want of 
subjects that we stop our career. We are not 
in the situation of poor Alexander the Great, 
who wept, as well indeed he might, because there 
were no more worlds to conquer ; for, to do justice 
to this queer, odd, rantipole city, and to this 
whimsical country, there is matter enough in thera 



PARTING PHILANTHROPHY. 455 

to keep our risible muscles and our pens going 
till doomsday. 

Most people, in taking a farewell which may, 
perhaps, be forever, are anxious to part on good 
terms ; and it is usual, on such melancholy oc- 
casions, for even enemies to shake hands, forget 
their previous quarrels, and bury all former an- 
imosities in parting regrets. Now, because most 
people do this, I am determined to act in quite a 
different way ; for, as I have lived, so I should 
wish to die, in my own way, without imitating 
any person, whatever may be his rank, talents, or 
reputation. Besides, if I know our trio, we have 
no enmities to obliterate, no hatchet to bury ; and 
as to all injuries — those we have long since for- 
given. At this moment there is not an individual 
in the world, not even the Pope himself, to whom 
we have any personal hostility. But if, shutting 
their eyes to the many striking proofs of good- 
nature displayed through the whole course of this 
work, there should be any persons so singularly 
ridiculous as to take offense at our strictures, we 
heartily forgive their stupidity ; earnestly entreat- 
inof them to desist from all manifestations of ill- 
humor, lest they should, peradventure, be classed 
under some one of the denominations of recreants, 
we have felt it our duty to hold up to public 
ridicule. Even at this moment, we feel a glow 
of parting philanthropy stealing upon us ; a senti- 
ment of cordial good-will towai"d the numerous 
host of readers that have jogged on at our heels 
during the last year ; and in justice to ourselves 
must seriously protest, that if at any time we 



456 SALMAGUNDI 

have treated them a little nngentlj, it was purely 
in that spirit of heai-ty affection, with which a 
schoolmaster drubs an unlucky urchin, or a hu- 
mane muleteer his recreant animal, at the very 
moment when his heart is brimful of lovins: kind- 
ness. If this is not considered an ample justi- 
fication, so much the worse ; for in that case I 
fear we shall remain forever unjustified — a most 
desperate extremity, and worthy of every man's 
commiseration ! 

One circumstance, in particular, has tickled us 
mightily as we jogged along ; and that is, the 
astonishing secrecy with which we have been able 
to carry on our lucubrations ! fully aware of the 
profound sagacity of the public of Gotham, and 
their wonderful faculty of distinguishing a writer 
by his style, it is with great self-congratulation 
we find that suspicion has never pointed to us as 
the authors of Salmagundi. Our gray-beard 
speculations have been most bountifully attributed 
to sundry smart young gentlemen, who, for aught 
we know, have no beai'ds at all ; and we have 
often been highly amused when they were charged 
with the sin of writing wlsat their harmless minds 
never conceived, to see them affect all the blush- 
ing modesty and beautiful embarrassment of de- 
tected virgin authors. The profound and pene- 
trating public, having so long been led away from 
truth and nature by a constant perusal of those 
delectable histories, and romances, from beyond 
seas, in which human nature is, for the most part, 
wickedly mangled and debauched, have never 
once ima^ined^this work was a "lenuine and most 



MERRY OLD BACHELORS. 457 

authentic history ; that the Cocklofts were a real 
family, dwelling in the city, paying scot and lot, 
entitled to the right of suffrage, and holding sev- 
eral respectable offices in the corporation. As 
little do they suspect that there is a knot of 
merry old bachelors seated snugly in the old- 
fashioned parlor of an old- fashioned Dutch house, 
with a weathercock on the top that came from 
Holland ; who amuse themselves of an evening 
by laughing at their neighbors, in an honest way, 
and who manage to jog on through the streets 
of our ancient and venerable city, without elbow- 
ing or being elbowed by a living soul. 

When we first adopted the idea of discontinu- 
ing this work, we determined, in order to give 
the critics a fair opportunity for dissection, to de- 
clare ourselves, one and all, absolutely defunct : 
for it is one of the rare and invaluable privileges 
of a periodical writer, that by an act of innocent 
suicide lie may lawfully consign himself to the 
grave, and cheat the world of posthumous re- 
nown. But we abandoned this scheme for many 
substantial reasons. In the first place, we care 
but little for the opinion of critics, whom we con- 
sider a kind of freebooters in the republic of let- 
ters ; who, like deer, goats, and divers other 
gi^aminivorous animals, gain subsistence by gor- 
ging upon the buds and leaves of the young 
shrubs of the forest, thereby robbing them of 
their verdure, and retardins" their progress to ma- 
turity. It also occurred to us, that though an 
author might lawfully, in all countries, kill him- 
self outright, yet this privilege did not extend to 



'158 SALMAGUNDI. 

the raising himself from the dead, if he was ever 
so anxious ; and all that is left him in such a 
case, is to take the benefit of the metempsychosis 
act, and revive under a new name and form. 

Far be it, therefore, from us to condemn our- 
selves to useless embarrassments, should we ever 
be disposed to resume the guardianship of this 
learned city of Gotham, and finish this invalu- 
able work, which is yet but half completed. We 
hereby openly and seriously declare, that we are 
not dead, but intend, if it please Providence, to 
live for many years to come, to enjoy life with 
the genuine relish of honest souls, careless of 
riches, honors, and everything but a good name, 
among good fellows, and with the full expectation 
of shufiling off the remnant of existence after 
the excellent fashion of that merry Grecian, who 
died lauofhiniT. 



TO THE LADIES. 

BY ANTHONY EVERGREEN, GENT. 

NEXT to our being a knot of independent 
old bachelors, there is nothing on which we 
pride ourselves more highly than upon possessing 
that true chivalric spirit of gallantry which dis- 
tinguished the days of King Arthur and his val- 
iant Knights of the Round Table. We cannot, 
therefore, leave the lists where we have so long 
been tiltinir at follv, with giving a farewell saluta- 



AN HONEST CONFESSION. 459 

tion to those noble dames and beauteous damsels 
who have honored us with their presence at the 
tourney. Like true knights, the only recompense 
we crave is the smile of beauty, and the approba- 
tion of those gentle fair ones, whose smile and 
whose approbation far excels all the trophies of 
honor, and all the rewards of successful ambition. 
True it is that we have suffered infinite perils, in 
standing forth as their champions, from the sly 
attacks of sundry arch caitiffs, who, in the over- 
flowings of their malignity, have even accused us 
of entering the lists as defenders of the very 
foibles and faults of the sex. Would that we 
could meet with these recreants hand to hand ; 
they should receive no more quarter than giants 
and enchanters in romance. 

Had we a spark of vanity in our natures, here 
is a glorious occasion to show our skill in refu- 
ting these illiberal insinuations ; but there is 
something manly and ingenuous in making an 
honest confession of one's offenses when about 
retiring from the world ; and so, without any 
more ado, we doff our helmets, and thus publicly 
plead guilty to the deadly sin of GOOD-nature ; 
hoping and expecting forgiveness from our good- 
natured readers — yet careless whether they be- 
stow it or not. And in this we do but imitate 
sundry condemned criminals, who, finding them- 
selves convicted of a capital crime, with great 
openness and candor, do generally, in their last 
dying speech, make a confession of all their pre- 
vious offenses, which confession is always read 
with great delight by all true lovers of biog- 
raphy. 



460 SALMAGUNDI. 

Still, however, notwithstanding our notorious 
devotion to the gentle sex, and our indulgent par- 
tiality, we have endeavored, on divers occasions, 
with all the polite and becoming delicacy of true 
respect, to reclaim them from many of those de- 
lusive follies and unseemly peccadilloes in which 
they are unhappily too prone to indulge. We 
have warned them against the sad consequences 
of encountering our midnight damps and wither- 
ing wintry blasts ; we have endeavored, with 
pious hands, to snatch them from the wildering 
mazes of the waltz, and thus rescuins them from 
the arras of strangers, to restore them to the 
bosoms of their friends; to preserve them from 
the nakedness, the fauiine, the cobweb muslins, 
the vinegar cruet, the corset, the stay-tape, the 
buckram, and all the other miseries and racks of 
a fine figure. But, above all, we have endea- 
vored to lure them fi-om the mazes of a dissipated 
world, where they wander about, careless of their 
value, until they lose their original worth ; and 
to restore them, before it is too late, to the sacred 
asylum of home, the soil most congenial to the 
opening blossom of female loveliness, where it 
blooms and expands in safety, in the fostering 
sunshine of maternal affection, and where its 
heavenly sweets are best known and appreciated. 

Modern philosophers may determine the proper 
destination of the sex ; they may assign to them 
an extensive and brilliant orbit, in which to re- 
volve, to the delight of the million and the confu- 
sion of man's superior intellect ; but when on 
this subject we disclaim philosophy, and appeal 



INESTIMABLE GEMS. 461 

to the higher tribunal of the heart — and what 
heart that had not lost its better feelings, would 
ever seek to repose its happiness on the bosom 
of one whose pleasures all lay without the thresh- 
old of home — who snatched enjoyment only in 
the whirlpool of dissipation, and amid the thought- 
less and evanescent gayety of a ball-room ? The 
fair one who is forever in the career of amuse- 
ment may for a while dazzle, astonish, and enter- 
tain ; but we are content with coldly admiring, 
and fondly turn from glitter and noise, to seek 
the happy fireside of social life, there to confide 
our dearest and best affections. 

Yet some there are — and we delight to men- 
tion them — who mingle freely with the world, 
unsullied by its contaminations ; whose brilliant 
minds, like the stars of the firmament, are des- 
tined to shed their light abroad and gladden every 
beholder with their radiance — to withhold them 
from the world would be doing it injustice — they 
are inestimable gems, which were never formed 
to be shut up in caskets, but to be the pride and 
ornament of elegant society. 

We have endeavored always to discriminate 
between a female of this superior order and the 
thoughtless votary of pleasure, who, destitute of 
intellectual resources, is servilely dependent on 
others for every little pittance of enjoyment ; who 
exhibits herself incessantly amid the noise, the 
giddy frolic, and capricious vanity of fashionable 
assemblages ; dissipating her languid affection on 
a crowd ; lavishing her ready smiles with indis- 
criminate prodigality on the worthy or the unde- 



462 SALMAGUNDI. 

serving ; and listening with equal vacancy of 
mind to the conversation of the enlightened, the 
frivolity of the coxcomb, and the flourish of the 
fiddle-stick. 

Tliere is a certain artificial polish — a com- 
mon-place vivacity acquired by perpetually min- 
gling in the beau monde, which, in the commerce 
of the world, supplies the place of natural sua- 
vity or good-humor ; but is purchased at the ex- 
pense of all original and sterling traits of charac- 
ter. By a kind of fashionable discipline the eye 
is taught to brighten, the lip to smile, and the 
whole countenance to irradiate with the semblance 
of friendly welcome, while the bosom is unwarmed 
by a single spark of genuine kindness or good- 
will. The elegant simulation may be admired by 
the connoisseur of human character as a perfec- 
tion of art, but the heart is not to be deceived by 
the superficial illusion ; it turns with delight to 
the timid, retiring fair one, whose smile is the 
smile of nature ; whose blush is the soft suffu- 
sion of delicate sensibility ; and whose aflTections, 
unblighted by the chilling effects of dissipation, 
glow with all the tenderness and purity of artless 
youth. Hers is a singleness of mind, a native 
innocence of manners, and a sweet timidity that 
steal insensibly upon the heart, and lead it a will- 
ing captive ; though venturing occasionally among 
the fairy haunts of pleasure, she shrinks from 
the broad glare of notoriety, and seems to seek 
refuge among her friends, even from the admira- 
tion of the world. 

These observations bring to mind a little alle- 



AN ALLEGORY. 463 

gory in one of the manuscripts of the sage Mus- 
tapha, which, being in some measure applicable 
to the subject of this essay, we transcribe for the 
benefit of our fair readers. 

Among the numerous race of the Bedouins, 
who people the vast tracts of Arabia Deserta, is 
a small tribe, remarkable for their habits of soli- 
tude and love of independence. They are of a 
rambling disposition, roving from waste to waste, 
slaking their thirst at such scanty pools as are 
found in those cheerless plains, and glory in the 
unenvied liberty they enjoy. A youthful Arab 
of this tribe, a simple son of nature, at length 
growing weary of his precarious and unsettled 
mode of life, determined to set out in search of 
some permanent abode. " I will seek," said he, 
" some happy region, some generous clime, where 
the dews of heaven diffuse fertility ; I will find 
out some unfailing stream, and, forsaking the joy- 
less life of my forefathers, settle on its borders, 
dispose my mind to gentle pleasures and tranquil 
enjoyments, and never wander more." 

Enchanted with this picture of pastoral felicity, 
be departed from the tents of his companions ; 
and having journeyed during five days, on the 
sixth, as the sun was just rising in all the splen- 
dors of the East, he lifted up his eyes and beheld 
extended before him, in smiling luxuriance, the 
fertile regions of Arabia the Happy. Gently 
swelling hills, tufted with blooming grove, swept 
down into luxuriant vales, enameled with flowers 
of never- withering beauty. The sun, no longer 
dartmg his ray? with torrid fervor, beamed with 



464 SALMAGUNDI. 

a genial warmth that gladdened and enriched the 
landscape. A pure and temperate serenity, au 
air of voluptuous repose, a smile of contented 
abundance, pervaded the face of nature, and 
every zephyr breathed a thousand delicious 
odors. The soul of the youthful wanderer ex- 
panded with delight — he raised his eyes to 
heaven, and almost mingled with his tribute of 
gratitude, a sigh of regret that he had lingered so 
long amid the sterile solitudes of the desert. 

With fond impatience he hastened to make 
choice of a stream where he might fix his habi- 
tation, and taste the promised sweets of this land 
of deliffht. But here commenced au unforeseen 

o 

perplexity ; for, though he beheld inumerable 
streams on every side, yet not one could he find 
which completely answered his high-raised ex- 
pectations. One abounded with wild and pictu- 
resque beauty, but it was capricious and unsteady 
in its course ; sometimes dashing its angry bil- 
lows against the rocks, and often raging and over- 
flowing its banks. Another flowed smoothly 
along, without even a ripple or a murmur ; but 
its bottom was soft and muddy, and its current 
dull and sluggish. A third was pure and trans- 
parent, but its waters were of a chilling coldness, 
and it had rocks and flints in its bosom. A fourth 
was dulcet in its tinklings, and graceful in its 
meanderings ; but it had a cloying sweetness that 
palled upon the taste ; while a fifth possessed a 
sparkling vivacity, and a pungency of flavor, that 
deterred the wanderer from repeating his draught. 
The youthful Bedouin began to weary with 



VOICE OF THE STREAM. 465 

fruitless trials and repeated disappointments, when 
his attention was suddenly attracted by a lively 
brook whose dancing waves glittered in the sun- 
beams, and whose pratting current communicated 
an air of bewitching gayety to the surrounding 
landscape. The heart of the wayworn traveller 
beat with expectation ; but on regarding it atten- 
tively on its course, he found that it constantly 
avoided the embowering shade, loitering with 
equal fondness, whether gliding through the rich 
valley, or over the barren sand ; that the fragrant 
flower, the fruitful shrub, and the worthless bram- 
ble were alike fostered by its waves, and that its 
current was often interrupted by unprofitable 
weeds. With idle ambition it expanded itself 
beyond its proper bounds, and spread into a shal- 
low waste of water, destitute of beauty or utility, 
and babbling along with uninteresting vivacity 
and vapid turbulence. 

The wandering son of the desert turned away 
with a sigh of regret, and pitied a stream which, 
if content within its natural limits, might have 
been the pride of the valley, and the object of 
all his wishes. Pensive, musing, and disap- 
pointed, he slowly pursued his now almost hope- 
less pilgrimage, and had rambled for some time 
along the margin of a gentle rivulet, before be 
became sensible of its beauties. It was a simple 
pastoral stream, whieh, shunning the noonday 
glare, pursued its unobtrusive course through re- 
tired and tranquil vales ; now dimpling among 
flowery banks and tufted shrubbery ; now wind- 
ing among spicy groves, whose aromatic foli- 
30 



466 SALMAGUNDI. 

age fondly bent down to meet the limpid wave. 
Sometimes, but not often, it would venture from 
its covert to stray through a flowery meadow ; 
but quickly, as if fearful of being seen, stole back 
again into its more congenial shade, and there 
lingered with sweet delay. Wherever it bent its 
course, the face of nature brightened into smiles, 
and a perennial spring reigned upon its borders. 
The warblers of the woodland delighted to quit 
their recesses and carol among its bowers ; while 
the turtle-dove, the timid fawn, the soft-eyed ga- 
zelle, and all the rural populace, who joy in the 
sequestered haunts of nature, resorted to its 
vicinity. Its pure transparent waters rolled over 
snow-white sands, and heaven itself was reflected 
in its tranquil bosom. 

The simple Arab threw himself upon its verdant 
margin ; he tasted the silver tide, and it was like 
nectar to his lips ; he bounded with transport, 
for he had found the object of his wayfaring. 
" Here," cried he, " will I pitch my tent ; here 
will I pass my days ; for pure, O fair stream, is 
thy gentle current ; beauteous are thy borders ; 
and the grove must be a paradise that is refreshed 
by thy meanderings ! " 



" Pendant opera interrupta." — Virg. 
" The work's all aback." — Link. Fid. 

** 1"T0W hard it is," exclaims the divine Con- 

J-X futse, better known among the illiterate 

by the name of Confucius, '• for a man to bite off 



THE EMBARGO. 467 

his own nose ! " At this moment I, William 
Wizard, Esq., feel the full force of this remark, 
and cannot but give vent to my tribulation at be- 
ing obliged, through the whim of friend Langstaff, 
to stop short in my literary career, when at the 
very point of astonishing my country, and reap- 
ing the brightest laurels of literature. We daily 
hear of shipwrecks, of failures and bankruptcies ; 
they are trifling mishaps which, from tiieir fre- 
quency, excite but little astonishment or sympa- 
thy ; but it is not often that we hear of a man's 
letting immortality slip through his fingers ; and 
when he does meet with such a misfortune, who 
would deny him the comfort of bewailing his ca- 
lamity ? 

Next to embargo, laid upon our commerce, the 
greatest public annoyance is the embargo laid 
upon our work ; in consequence of which, the 
produce of my wits, like that of my country, 
must remain at home ; and my ideas, like so many 
merchantmen in port, or redoubtable frigates in 
the Potomac, moulder away in the mud of my 
own brain. I know of few things in this world 
more annoying than to be interrupted in the mid- 
dle of a favorite story, at the most interesting 
part, where one expects to shine or to have a con- 
versation broken off just when you are about 
coming out, with a score of excellent jokes, not 
one of which but was good enough to make every 
fine figure in corsets literally split her sides with 
laughter. In some such predicament am I placed 
at present ; and I do protest to you, my good-look- 
ing and well beloved readers, by the chop-sticka 



468 SALMAGUNDI. 

of the immortal Josh, I was on the very brink of 
treating you with a full broadside of the most in- 
genious and instructive essays that your precioua 
noddles were ever bothered with. 

In the first place, I had, with infinite labor 
and pains, and by consulting the divine Plato, 
Sanconiathon, ApoUonius Rhodius, Sir John Har- 
rington, Noah Webster, Linkum Fidelius, and 
others, fully refuted all those wild theories respec- 
ting the first settlement of our venerable country; 
and proved, beyond contradiction, that America, 
so far from being, as the writers of upstart Eu- 
rope denominate it, the new world, is at least as 
old as any country in existence, not excepting 
Egypt, China, or even the land of the Assiniboins; 
which, according to the traditions of that ancient 
people, has already assisted at the funerals of 
thirteen suns, and four hundred and seventy 
thousand moons ! 

I had likewise written a long dissertation on 
certain hieroglyphics discovered on those fragments 
of the moon, which have lately fallen, with singu- 
lar propriety, in a neighboring State, and have 
thrown considerable light on the state of litera- 
ture and the arts in that planet, showing that 
the universal language which prevails there is 
high Dutch ; thereby proving it to be the most 
ancient and original tongue, and corroborating the 
opinion of a celebrated poet, that it is the language 
in which the serpent tempted our grandmother 
Eve. 

To support the theatric department, I had sev- 
eral very judicious critiques, ready written, wherein 



PLAGIARISM. 469 

no quarter was shown either to authors or ac- 
tors ; and I was only waiting to determine at 
what plays or performances they should be lev- 
eled. As to the grand spectacle of Cinderella, 
which is to be represented this season, I had 
given it a most unmerciful handling, showing that 
it was neither tragedy, comedy, nor farce ; that 
the incidents were highly improbable, that the 
prince played like a perfect harlequin, that the 
white mice were merely powdered for the occasion, 
and that the new moon had a most outrageous 
copper nose. 

But my most profound and erudite essay in 
embryo is an analytical, hypercritical review of 
these Salmagundi lucubrations ; which I had writ- 
ten partly in revenge for the many waggish jokes 
played oflf against me by my confederates, and 
partly for the purpose of saving much invaluable 
labor to the Zoiluses and Dennises of the age, by 
detecting and exposing all the similarities, resem- 
blances, synonymies, analogies, coincidences, etc., 
which occur in this work. 

I hold it downright plagiarism for any author 
to write, or even to think, in the same manner 
with any other writer that either did, doth, or may 
exist. It is a sage maxim of law — " Ignorantia 
neminem excusat " — and the same has been ex- 
tended to literature : so that if an author shall pub- 
lish an idea that has been ever hinted by another, 
it shall be no exculpation for him to plead igno- 
rance of the fact. All, therefore, that 1 had to do 
was to take a good pair of spectacles, or a mag- 
nifiying glass, and with Salmagundi in hand and 



470 SALMAGUNDI. 

a tableful of books before me, to muse over them 
alternately, in a corner of Cockloft library : care- 
fully comparing and contrasting all odd ends and 
fragments of sentences. Little did honest Launce 
suspect, when he sat lounging and scribbling in 
his elbow-chair with no other stock to draw upon 
than his own brain, and no other authority to 
consult than the sage Linkum Fidelius — little 
did he think that his careless, unstudied effusions 
would receive such scrupulous investigation. 

By laborious researches, and patiently collating 
words, where sentences and ideas ^did not corre- 
spond, I have detected sundry sly disguises and 
metamorphoses of which, I'll be bound, Lang- 
staff himself is ignorant. Thus, for instance — 
the little man in black is evidently no less a per- 
sonage than old Goody Blake or Goody some- 
thing, filched from the Spectator, who confessedly 
filched her from Otway's " wrinkled hag with age 
grown double." My friend Launce has taken 
the honest old woman, dressed her up in the cast- 
off suit worn by Twaits, in Lampedo, and endeav- 
ored to palm the imposture upon the enlightened 
inhabitants of Gotham. No further proof of the 
fact need be given, than that Goody Blake was 
taken for a witch, and the little man in black for a 
conjurer ; and that they both lived in villages, the 
inhabitants of which were distinguished by a most 
respectful abhorrence of hobgoblins and broom- 
sticks ; to be sure the astonishing similiarity ends 
here, but surely that is enough to prove that the 
little man in black is no other than Goody Blake 
in the disguise of a white witch. 



MUST AP HA. 471 

Thus, also, the sage Mustapha, in mistaking a 
brag-party for a convention of magi studying hier- 
oglyphics, may pretend to orignality of idea and 
to a familiar acquaintance with the black-letter 
literati of the East. But this Tripolitan trick 
will not pass here ; I refer those who wish to de- 
tect his larceny to one of those wholesale jumbles, 
or hodge-podge collections of science, which, like 
a tailor's pandemonium or a giblet-pie, are recep- 
tacles for scientific fragments of all sorts and sizes. 
The reader, learned in dictionary studies, will at 
once perceive I mean an encyclopaedia. There, 
under the title of Magi, Egypt, Cards, or Hiero- 
glyphics, I forget which, will be discovered an 
idea similar to that of Mustapha, as snugly con- 
cealed as truth at the bottom of a well, or the 
mistletoe amid the shady branches of an oak ; 
and it may at any time be drawn from its lurk- 
ing-place, by those hewers of wood, and drawers 
of water, who labor in humbler walks of criticism. 
This is assuredly a most unpardonable error of 
the sage Mustapha, who had been the captain of 
a ketch ; and, of course, as your nautical men are 
for the most part very learned, ought to have 
known better. But this is not the only blunder 
of the grave Mussulman who swears by the head 
of Amrou, the beard of Barbarossa, and the sword 
of Khalid, as glibly as our good Christian soldiers 
anathematize body and soul, or a sailor his eyes 
and odd limbs. Now 1 solemnly pledge myself to 
the world, that in all my travels through the 
East, in Persia, Arabia, China, and Egypt, I never 
heard man, woman, or child, utter any of those pre- 



472 SALMAGUNDI. 

posterous and new-fangled asseverations ; and that, 
so far from swearing by any man's head, it is con- 
sidered, throughout the East, the greatest insult 
that can be offered to either the living or dead to 
meddle in any shape even with his beard. These 
are but two or three specimens of the exposures 
I would have made ; but I should have descended 
still lower ; nor would have spared the most in- 
significant and, or but, or nevertheless, provided I 
could have found a ditto in the '* Spectator " or the 
dictionary ; but all these minutiae I bequeath to 
the Lilliputian literati of this sagacious commu- 
nity, who are fond of hunting " such small deer," 
and I earnestly pray they may find full employ- 
ment for a twelvemonth to come. 

But the most outrageous plagiarisms of friend 
Launcelot are those made on sundry living per- 
sonages. Thus : Tom Straddle has been evi- 
dently stolen from a distinguished Brummagem 
emigrant, since they both ride on horseback ; 
Dabble, the little great man, has his origin in a 
certain aspiring counselor, who is rising in the 
world as rapidly as the heaviness of his head will 
permit ; mine uncle John will bear a tolerable 
comparison, particularly as it respects the sterling 
qualities of his heart, with a worthy yeoman of 
Westchester County ; and to deck out Aunt Char- 
ity, and the amiable Miss Cocklofts, he has rifled 
the charms of half the ancient vestals in the city. 
Nay, he has taken unpardonable liberties with my 
own person ! — elevating me on the substantial 
pedestals of a worthy gentleman from China, and 
tricking me out with claret coats, tight breeches, 



FAREWELL. 473 

and silver-sprigged dickeys, in such sort that I 
can scarcely recognize my own resemblance ; 
whereas I absolutely declare that I am an ex- 
ceeding good-looking man, neither too tall nor too 
short, too old nor too young, with a person indif- 
ferently robust, a head rather inclining to be 
large, an easy swing in my walk, and that I wear 
my own hair, neither queued, nor cropped, nor 
turned up, but in a fair, pendulous oscillating 
club, tied with a yard of ninepenny black ribbon. 
And now having said all that occurs to me on 
the present pathetic occasion — having made my 
speech, wrote my eulogy, and drawn my portrait, 
I bid my readers an affectionate farewell ; ex- 
horting them to live honestly and soberly — pay- 
ing their taxes, and reverencing the state, the 
church, and the corporation — reading diligently 
the Bible and almanac, the newspaper and Sal- 
magundi ; which is all the reading an honest 
citizen has occasion for — and eschewing all spirit 
of faction, discontent, irreligion, and criticism. 
Which is all at present 

From their departed friend, 

William Wizard. 



THE END. 



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